


The Apostate Prophecy

by pornosophical



Series: The Last Heroes [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Coming Out, F/M, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Post-Series, Romance, Slash, Slow Burn, Wordcount: 100.000-150.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 104,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4129654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pornosophical/pseuds/pornosophical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zeus has stripped Apollo of his powers for the course of one year, punishment for his perceived role in starting the Second Titanomachy. Part of his sentence involves serving as Camp Jupiter’s new Augur, at least until a replacement for Octavian is found. At the same time Percy, Jason, and Nico must go to Delphi and slay Python to restore the gift of prophecy to Apollo and his children. </p><p>Everything goes according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> this monstrosity is a labor of love, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had fun writing it!

Mount Olympus

Two months after Gaea’s defeat – The Future

_The gods are not kind. They are cruel, selfish, and full of pride_

_Take joy in watching them fall_

Early October and snow had already blanketed New York; the icy wind nibbled on exposed skin with tiny needle-teeth. Winter slowed down life even in the Big Apple, but especially when it was so unseasonably soon. Under the setting sun and thick snow the ‘city that never sleeps’ was at least lazily dozing.

Four people walked out of the weather into the lobby of the Empire State Building. They were young and fashionable, two men—well, one was more a boy than man—and two women, all of varying height and build, but all of them attractive in their way. No one else paid them any mind as they strode with purpose toward the desk where a bored security attendant was lazily tapping his cell phone. The guard didn’t even look up when the four parked themselves at the desk.

“Can I help you?” the guard droned.

“Well, that's a good question,” said the first of the foursome. He was tall, light-skinned, blond, and movie star handsome where his companions were just attractive. When he rested his elbow on the desk his bicep visibly flexed under the thick, expensive, dark wool of his sweater. He looked like he belonged on a billboard, walking away from an explosion with his sunglasses on.  “ _Can_ you help us?”

“Do not play, Sky, we have only a few minutes,” said one of his companions. She spoke with the perfected diction of someone who had been tutored the Queen’s English and been forbidden from making any errors, as she did so on pain of punishment. Her almond brown eyes flicking up at him in annoyance as she absent-mindedly tucked her black hair behind her ear. “Magic, are you ready?”

“Yeah,” said the boy in a hoodie, his voice soft and quiet, his face shadowed by his hood. He was the youngest by far, almost a child where the others were young adults. His skin was black like coal, and his eyes were bright like gold. From seemingly nowhere he produced a struggling young hare, holding it by the nape of its neck. People began to stop and look at the odd sight, murmuring to one another in mounting concern. “Ready whenever. Death?”

“Thought you’d never ask, _chico_ ,” said the last member of their party as she sashayed around the desk, walked behind the guard and pulled him back by his chin in his chair before he could protest. She smiled and her lipstick, dark like blood fresh from an artery, matched the violent glee in her dark eyes. They were attracting a lot of attention now, and several people had their cell phones out to record them.

For all the good it would do them.

“Moon?” said Sky, looking back to his shorter companion.

“Sea says the streets are clear,” she said, looking up as though she could see through steel and concrete. “Our window is twenty seconds.”

Both Magic and Death drew out long, gleaming knives, and held them against the throats of their victims. A woman screamed in the lobby.

“Oh, shut up,” said Sky, and without missing a beat or even turning around to look snapped his fingers over his shoulder.

The screaming woman’s head whipped around with a bone-cracking snap that rang unnaturally loud in the sudden hush and her body dropped to the floor. Then more screams came about as people began to run for the entrance, but the doors refused to open. A shadowy figure stood just beyond the glass and no matter how hard they pounded against it both he and the door did not move.

“Ten seconds,” said Moon. The security guard was panicking but seemed paralyzed by Death’s light hold on his chin.

“Now,” said Moon as her eyes turned pale and luminous just like the moon outside.

In perfect unison Death and Magic slit the throats of the security guard and hare. Blood from the security guard’s neck sprayed out covering all four of them while the hare exploded into golden dust that fast faded into nothing. There was another bout of shrieking, this time by everyone crowded at the door.

“Jesus Christ would you people SHUT UP!” shouted Sky as he half-turned and made a motion as if to brush them away. Lightning crackled in the lobby, exploding out from the walls, floor, and ceiling. The people in its grip seized so hard they almost looked like they were dancing before they died. When it was over the air smelled like ozone, blood, and burning hair. A devastating hush settled over the lobby.

“That should do it—oh _come_ _on_!” protested Sky, as Death hauled the guard’s corpse up onto his desk.

“Better safe than sorry,” she said and began expertly flaying the skin from the guard’s head and shoulders.

“You do this literally every time,” Sky complained.

“Not _literally_ ,” countered Death cheerfully as her blade squelched between muscle and skin.

“Just let her,” said Magic quietly from under his hood, hands in his pockets. He looked like a shadow with a bad slouch. “It costs us nothing.”

“It costs us time!” snapped Sky. “I’m the leader—“

“No, you’re not,” Death sang mockingly.

 “Yes, I am! I’m the Sky Father, and that means I’m the leader!”

“Dare you to say that in front of Grandfather,” rasped Magic and Sky paled.

“Fuck you!”

“You’re so adorable when you get all worked up,” said Death as she finished peeling the guard’s skin off in one continuous piece. “There we go.”

She settled the guard’s skin around her shoulders like a scarf and pressed her face into his. There was a bright flash and then Death didn’t look like Death anymore. She looked like the guard.

“Right this way, distinguished guests,” she said in the guard’s voice and lead them around the scattered bodies to the nearest elevator. The lobby was empty now except for the screaming woman’s corpse. Death pressed the up button and when the elevator doors opened she bowed slightly and indicated its interior. “Olympus awaits.”

“It’s almost funny,” said Sky as everyone filed into the elevator. “They still have no idea what’s coming for them.”

“I kinda wish they did,” said Death. “Oh wow… there really is a button for the 300th floor. That kid wasn’t lying.”

“Huh. Now I almost feel sorry for what we did to him,” said Sky. Death rolled her eyes and pressed the Omega button.

“Tell it to someone who cares—like his father,” whispered Magic.

“You know what?” said Sky contemplatively. “When we’re done I just might do that.”

“Dibs on Apollo’s bow,” said Moon as the door slid shut on the others protesting that no could call dibs.

The lobby was left silent except for the drip-drop of blood onto the floor tiles.


	2. Chapter 2

Camp Half Blood

Two days after Gaea’s defeat – The Present 

_We made this world as it is. We made it with our hopes, our desires, and our fears_

_If it is not the world we wanted, then who will shoulder that blame?_

Nico

Nico had somewhat surprised himself by actually going to the infirmary, not that Will would have taken no for an answer. After dropping his bombshell on Percy and Annabeth he’d allowed Will to shepherd him into the infirmary (also after dropping by his cabin for something fresh to wear). The Apollo kids had treated most everyone by that point so the infirmary wasn’t as full as it had been immediately after the battle, but some injuries couldn’t be hurried through healing even by ambrosia. Mostly there seemed to be a great deal of cleaning up and re-stocking going on.

Nico’s room wasn’t large and the two extra cots crammed in there didn’t help. A large window occupied the outside wall, and was missing its curtains and curtain rod.

“Things are still a little hectic,” said Will with a significant glance at Nico. “We got a bit overloaded, even if ambrosia took care of most things right off the bat, we only have the one floor. Sorry about the room, but I thought you’d prefer privacy over tidiness.”

Nico nodded, not sure what he was supposed to say. Will put his hand on the small of Nico’s back and guided him into the room. His palm felt hot through Nico’s shirt.

“All right, just change into your jammies, and then get into bed. I’ll see if I can move these beds.”

“It’s the middle of the day,” said Nico, gesturing at the light streaming into the room. Will just looked at him. “Fine! Fine, fine, whatever.”

“I’ll be right outside,” said Will. “Get settled in, I’ll bring you some ambrosia and nectar, and then we’ll see where you’re at.”

Nico changed into his pajamas, grumbling a bit. Will wasn’t giving him skeletal butterflies at the moment, but he definitely felt something—a sort of tension, especially whenever Will put his hands on Nico. He was entirely professional, but it made Nico’s skin itch with the urge to do _something._

It wasn't bad, but it was new to Nico and not quite comfortable.

Once he was in bed, Nico called for Will. He came back with a vial of something glowing and silver, and a tray with a small square of ambrosia.

“The Romans brought supplies with them, and this is something I whipped up with unicorn draught and nectar and… some herbs,” Will finished lamely, apparently thinking better of listing everything he put in.

“Nectar mixed with unicorn draught?” asked Nico. “And ambrosia? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It would be, if I hadn’t made sure everything was in proportion. Don’t look at me like that, Chiron watched me make this and he knows more about demigods than anyone else in, like, ever, so if he says it’s okay, then it’s okay. Now drink up and tell me how you feel.”

Nico took the vial and drank. It didn’t taste like any one thing so much as a mélange of remembered flavors from happy times. His whole body tingled and he felt utterly relaxed.

“How is it?” asked Will, looking carefully at Nico’s eyes and flashing a little light on them.

“Good,” said Nico, smacking his lips. His eyelids were drooping and felt terribly heavy, like someone had turned the gravity up. “Should I eat the ambrosia too?”

“Hmm…” Will was looking at him and picked up Nico’s wrist, feeling for his pulse. Will’s fingers were warm and soft. Only his fingertips were callused from playing guitar and archery. Nico hoped his heart wasn’t beating fast enough to notice. Despite this, it was still hard to keep his eyes open.

“Are you sleepy?” asked Will. Nico yawned and Will smiled. “Then you don’t need the ambrosia, just rest. If you need anything else though, just buzz.”

“Right,” said Nico as he turned onto his side. He fell asleep before Will had left the room.

Nico slept all day and through the night until the next morning. A girl named Sam brought him breakfast and some ambrosia, and then after Nico had eaten Will came and examined and re-dressed his remaining injuries. And he sang the entire time.

Nico hadn’t realized that part of his bed-rest would involve Will singing. While he’d assumed Will would have a great voice, he’d never actually heard it before—at least outside of the din of the campfire.

Listening to Will sing was actually very pleasant, even if the songs were mostly just hymns praising Apollo. But if Nico didn’t bother to translate the Greek and just let Will’s voice wash over him...

Will was looking at Nico with a relatively severe frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” said Will slowly. “How do you feel?”

“Good, I guess?” said Nico. “I liked your singing. I mean you have a nice voice, so, yeah.”

Nico desperately wished he could shadow-travel away without fear of pursuit or fading into nothingness. He’d done a pretty good job of not embarrassing himself up until that point. But Will just smiled at him, pink rising in his cheeks like the dawning sun.

“You think so? I know all Apollo kids are supposed to be naturally talented singers, but I never really had the knack, you know? I had to work hard to be as good as my sibs. I’m glad you like it.”

They couldn’t stop smiling at each other. Something was happening, changing in the air between them, Nico could feel it—like the shape of things to come. Their smiles faded as they kept looking at each other.

Nico licked his lips, and Will leaned forward ever so slightly, and someone knocked on the doorframe.

“Nico?” asked the absolute last person in the world Nico wanted to see right at that moment. Percy poked his head into the room and smiled when he saw Nico and Will. “Hey, guys! Nico, how you feeling?”

Nico tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. Percy was lucky that Nico was on bed rest; otherwise, Nico would have already kicked him for breaking the whatever-it-was going on between him and Will.

“He’s doing fine, and he’s supposed to be resting, Jackson, so come back and visit him later,” said Will tersely and Percy reared back.

“I’m just checking in, not challenging him to a duel or anything,” said Percy, looking a little hurt. “If you’re not up for talking, I can go.”

“It’s okay,” sighed Nico. “Stay.”

Percy brightened up and walked in to stand by Nico’s bed opposite Will, who was irritably cleaning up Nico’s old bandages.

“When I heard you were in the infirmary I got a little worried,” said Percy quietly, gently enough to make Nico’s heart remember the ache of past feelings. “You looked fine the other day, did something happen?”

“No, just recovering from… overexertion.” 

Will grumbled something Nico didn’t catch and Nico grinned at his sour expression before turning back to Percy. “So, you dropped by to check in?”

“Well,” said Percy after a long pause. “I did kind of want to talk to you. You know. About the thing the other day. What you said.”

Nico couldn’t help the electric discomfort that raced through his body at Percy’s words, and it must have shown on his face because Percy began protesting: “Nothing bad! I just think we should, you know, talk. About it.”

“Hey, Will, could you give us a minute?” asked Nico. Will gave him a steady, heavy look, and nodded.

“I’ll be right outside,” he said to Nico and then turned to Percy with an unfriendly expression. “Don’t do anything to rile him up.”

Nico deeply resented being spoken about as though he weren’t in the room, but Percy just nodded and Will went out into the hall. He didn’t close the door all of the way, and Nico looked at Percy and then the door meaningfully.

“What? Oh. Sure,” said Percy and pushed the door shut with a click. And then he looked at Nico and Nico had heard the phrase “the elephant in the room” before, but now he understood why people said it. The knowledge of his attraction to Percy was heavy in the air between them, almost oppressive with the weight of its presence.

“So….” Percy was scratching the back of his head and looking supremely awkward. He was still cute—even on his way to handsome—and Nico had a feeling Percy would always hold a special place in his heart. But the burning ache of unrequited affection, the self-loathing, that lonely, overwhelming feeling of longing… those things were gone.

Mostly. Kind of.

It was a work in progress.

“So,” said Nico, not unkindly. Percy seemed to have lost his footing, and Nico enjoyed feeling like he had the upper hand between them for once.

“Uh, yeah…” said Percy and Nico took pity on him.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah. Yeah! Um… yeah,” said Percy. Nico did his best to look open and understanding. “Right.”

Okay, that had gotten old fast. “So talk.”

“Well, it’s just…” Percy bit his lip. “The crush. Your crush. On me.”

“Yes, Percy,” said Nico slowly as though Percy was hard of understanding. “I had a crush on you.”

“Just— _why?_ ” Nico blinked, taken aback at Percy’s tone and somewhat surprised by the question. Percy sounded more than confused like there was something about asking that pained him.

“Why did I have a crush on you? You do know how crushes work, right?”

Percy’s eyes narrowed, and an angry rumble sounded from deep in his chest loud enough to make Nico want to squirm.

“I know exactly how crushes work,” said Percy and almost made it sound like some sort of threat, which Nico found far more attractive than he wanted to.

“Everyone okay in there?” called Will from outside the door. Percy jerked back like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Nico exhaled after he realized that he’d been holding his breath.

“Everything’s fine, Will,” said Nico. “Percy’s just having some trouble using his words.”

Will snorted and poked his head inside the room to look at Nico. “You’re pretty lippy when you’re not busy brooding like a gargoyle.”

“Hey!” said Percy and it took Nico a second to realize that Percy's indignation was actually in defense of him. “Nico’s been through a lot.”

Will gave Percy a flat look. “Oh, I know, _Percy_.”

Now while Nico wanted desperately to know what that was all about, he felt obligated to defuse the situation, which was also a new thing for him.

“Will, just give us a little longer, please?” Nico did his best to look vulnerable and adorable. He didn't fool Will for a second.

“He needs to rest,” said Will, looking at Nico but talking to Percy. “So you get five minutes, then I’m kicking you out.”

Percy looked mutinous but Will bowed out, and they heard him walk down the hall.

“So?” asked Nico.

“So.” Percy took a deep breath. “When you said my type…”

Percy had trailed off, so Nico prompted him. “Your type?”

“No, your type. When you said my type—”

“My type?” Nico was probably having a bit too much fun given how red Percy’s face had gotten.

“Yes, your type! When you said my type. About me. Not being. Yours.”

“I can’t believe I actually understood that.”

“ _Nico._ ”

“Okay, okay, I won’t tease.” Nico did his best to say nothing that would hurt Percy’s feelings while still being the truth. “Listen, Percy, when I first met you it was… you were Mythomagic come to life. You fought monsters out of legend, you talked to gods, and they talked to you, you were cute, and you were there to save me and Bianca. I fell more than a little in love with you the first time I met you, even if I didn’t realize that’s what it was.”

“Love?” asked Percy, his voice small and his eyes wide. Nico figured they were in deep enough at this point a little more truth wouldn’t hurt.

“Yes, Percy. I hung the moon on you. Even after Bianca died.” Nico took a second to steady his voice it had gotten dangerously wobbly. “Even after that, I still had faith in you. I’ve always had faith in you.”

Percy looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Nico…”

“And it was hard to be around you, because you and Annabeth love each other so much and are so perfect and I thought I would never have that and I kind of hated you for being so happy when I was in… crushing on you.” The word ‘love’ seemed to pain Percy for some reason, as if he’d done something unforgivable to Nico.

“You will, though,” said Percy fiercely, grabbing onto Nico’s hand. “You’ll find some guy, and he’ll love you, and you’ll love him, and you _will_ have that.”

“I know, Percy, I know that now _._ ” Nico actually wasn’t so sure about that, but he couldn't deny things were looking up and he was willing to extend some cautious optimism. “In some ways I guess I do owe Cupid some sort of thanks. He was right about me. After Jason found out, it was like this weight started to disappear. And Reyna and Coach Hedge made me feel like I finally had friends who understood. Who accepted me as I was, warts and all, you know?”

A tapestry of emotions had woven themselves across Percy’s face but the question that came out—affronted and plaintive—as he straightened up was: “Wait— _Jason_ knew?”

Nico rolled his eyes. That whole alpha-male competition complex Percy and Jason had with each other baffled him. Probably because he felt confident that if push came to shove in any given situation both of them would fold to him.

At that moment, Will came back.

“Time’s up. Visiting hour is over.” Percy gave Will a look that plainly said Will could kiss his ass, but Nico was actually feeling worn out now that he was finally relaxing.

“Hey, Percy, thanks for visiting.” Percy turned back to Nico and smiled. It was only a little heartbreaking to have that smile turned on him.

“Of course, dude. Anytime.” Percy was still standing there as if he wasn’t sure what to do to say goodbye, his hands twitching as he made to raise them but thought better of it.

Nico sighed and opened his arms.

“Um, Nico?” Percy looked surprised, more so than Nico thought the gesture merited.

“Yes, I do hugs now, it’s a whole thing. You can ask Jason. So come on, let’s get it over with,” said Nico.

Percy laughed and leaned down to wrap his arms around Nico, gently because technically Nico _was_ in the infirmary for a reason. It felt good, what’s more, it felt easy, and if Nico’s heart sped up a little then who could blame him? It was Percy Jackson, and anyone else would feel the same.

After a beat Percy pulled back and clasped Nico’s hand in that modern way he still wasn’t used to.

“So… Jason?”

“Yes, Jason knew first,” said Nico tiredly. “When we went to get the scepter of Diocletian, we met Cupid, and he decided that I needed to come to terms with my… feelings. I had to admit to it so we could get the scepter or get beaten up by the god of love.”

“WHAT?” squawked Percy and Will at the same time. Nico glanced over at Will, who wasn’t even pretending to look busy anymore. Will looked aghast. Percy looked furious.

“It’s not a big deal, it’s over, and it’s done, and I’m okay now,” said Nico.

“Nico,” said Percy, his anger vanishing and sympathy flooding into its place. Will, on the other hand, had gone back to pretending he was reading labels and sorting medicine, but he was visibly distracted and clearly focused on listening.

“Seriously, Percy.” Nico managed a crooked grin. “I’m good now.”

Percy looked like he had a lot of things he wanted to say but he settled for: “So we’re good?”

“Yes, Percy, we’re good. Visit me later if you want.” Percy had clearly gotten the hint, but he was still taking forever to leave.

“Good. I‘ll do that.” Percy looked around the room. “If you need anything—“

“I think Will has that covered,” said Nico firmly.

“Right, right.” Percy was still hesitating.

“Good- _bye_ , Percy,” said Nico with enough emphasis that Percy finally left.

Nico sighed and let the tension drain from his neck and shoulders. That had been a bit much, but the conversation had felt surprisingly good. Talking to Percy, being friends with Percy, these were things he hadn’t thought would ever be easy, or even just free from agony. But it had been okay, and he felt good.

“All right, Nico. Sam says you ate the ambrosia with your breakfast, so I’d like to try another round of Nectar Draught.”

“You’re the expert,” said Nico with a shrug and Will grinned.

“That’s right, I am. Glad to hear you’ve accepted that,” said Will. Nico scowled at him but Will just kept grinning like a loon. “Drink this one slowly, okay? It’s a bit stronger.”

“Stronger?” Ambrosia and nectar could kill demigods if they had too much, and Nico looked at the vial warily.

“Didn’t you just say I was the expert?” asked Will in a light tone. “Even if you chugged that whole vial right now you’d only get a mild fever and maybe have a rough time when you went to the bathroom. All the same, I’d rather you not run the risk of stressing your body during recovery. So just drink very, very slowly.”

Nico tipped the vial to his lips just barely—so that only a few drops fell at a time. But instead of Will getting annoyed he just stared at Nico and licked his lips. Nico quickly became flustered and downed the rest of the vial without thinking.

“Whoa! Hey, you okay?” asked Will. He took the vial from Nico’s hands and then put his stethoscope to Nico’s chest.

“Kinda hot—whoa,” said Nico as everything went fuzzy around the edges. “Vision’s a little blurry.”

“It’s okay, you just had a little more nectar at once than you should have, but remember what I said, you’re going to be fine.” Will’s voice was soothing and calm in that measured way that people who have emergency training use. Will quickly stripped the blanket off of Nico’s bed, and then took a sprig of herbs out of his pocket and lit it, singing a little hymn as he waved the smoke around the room.

Nico drifted out of sensibility at that point and woke up some time later. He woke suddenly, one moment adrift in a half-sleep haze and the next snapping into full consciousness. Instead of feeling the sudden lurch though he felt re-vitalized. Not full of energy so much as stability.

He drank some of the water from the pitcher on his nightstand, and then realized he was extremely hungry. He checked the clock and was dismayed to see he’d missed lunch by a couple hours.

“Nico! You’re up!” Another surprise visitor, although this one promised to be much less stressful—Jason with a bag of McDonald’s, the smell of which made Nico’s stomach growl as soon as he came in the room. He must have been waiting for Nico to wake up.

Nico still wasn’t used to having someone who cared as much as Jason did back in his life. It wasn’t that Hazel didn’t care about him, but Nico felt protective of Hazel. She was his younger sister.

Jason was the polar opposite of a younger sister in need of protection. And Nico didn’t have a long-standing crush on him.

“What do you think you’re doing with that?” said Will, appearing in a whirl of disapproval. Jason looked caught off guard.

“Um, Nico just woke up, and I’m bringing him some late lunch?” Nico could sense that his McDonald’s was in danger of being confiscated.

“C’mon, Will, it’s my favorite,” he whined.

“It’s fast food crap, and it’s unhealthy and—“ Nico scowled and Will stopped mid-sentence. “Fine. But for dinner, you’re eating what I tell you to.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” said Nico. “Jason, gimme.”

Will stomped off muttering under his breath, which was kind of cute, and Jason dropped the bag in Nico’s lap. Nico tore it open like he hadn’t eaten in months instead of just since breakfast and almost missed the speculative way Jason watched Will stomp down the hallway.

“So…” said Jason slyly as he took a seat on the edge of Nico’s bed, his blue eyes practically twinkling behind his new glasses. “He’s pretty cute.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Nico through a mouthful of cheeseburger and tried to shove a laughing Jason off the bed with his foot.

“If you need any tips,” Jason started, and Nico began to kick furiously at him. Jason danced back, still laughing, one hand going up to adjust his glasses. “I’m serious dude!”

“Oh gods, just let me eat in peace,” said Nico petulantly around a mouthful of meat and processed cheese. “This is delicious, thank you.”

“Anytime, buddy. We missed you at breakfast and lunch,” said Jason, resettling on the edge of the bed. He looked at Nico with such quiet warmth Nico felt a little uncomfortable.

“What.” Nico snapped out far more viciously than was called for. Luckily, Jason had developed an immunity to his moods.

“It’s just really cool to see you happy, Nico.”

There was a lump in Nico’s throat that was suddenly making it hard to swallow his burger. After a couple tries he got it down but he didn’t feel like taking another bite.

“Aw, hey, man, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down,” said Jason and Nico sniffled a bit as he rubbed his eyes.

“I’m just tired,” Nico lied. Thankfully Jason took the excuse and ran with it.

“I bet! It’s only been like a couple days. Hauling the Athena Parthenos across the Atlantic? That was amazing, like an actual Herculean feat. Although Hercules is an ass, so maybe not the best comparison.” Nico rolled his eyes but Jason’s chatter made him smile a little all the same. He returned to his food with gusto.

They sat for a while in companionable silence. Jason occasionally piped up with bits of news from around the camp and the recovery efforts, and in between mouthfuls Nico even managed to ask a few questions.

“And I’m going to be leaving on my quest relatively soon, once everything here is settled,” Jason went on.

“Wait—what quest?” said Nico, looking up from his hunt for hidden French-fries in the bottom of the bag.

“To make certain that all of the gods are properly acknowledged and worshiped,” said Jason. “I mean most of the work will be done here, you know making altars and shrines, but a lot of the lesser-known gods are kind of in hiding, and they need to give their blessing for us to dedicate anything to them.”

“Are you going by yourself?” asked Nico. Jason shrugged.

“Not sure yet. I’m definitely waiting until things calm down a bit before heading out.”

“If you need someone to come with you,” Nico said, and Jason beamed at him. “Stop that.”

“What? Being happy?” Jason teased.

“Being _nauseatingly_ happy. I’m sure it’s bad for my delicate constitution.” Nico indicated the hospital bed he was currently on mandatory bed rest in.

“Oh yeah, that’s you all right, Mr. Delicate,” scoffed Jason and Nico felt a rush of affection for him. “You done with all that?”

“Yeah,” said Nico tossing the balled up bag to the trash. He really shouldn’t have tried to make the shot because his aim was atrocious, but halfway to its target the ball of paper changed course and sailed through the rim without touching the sides.

“Show-off,” said Nico and Jason just looked smug.

“So, I heard Percy was in here earlier,” said Jason and Nico grunted noncommittally. “It went that well, huh?”

“It was fine,” said Nico. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it, but the prospect just felt exhausting.

“I have to admit I was pretty surprised by you telling Percy _and_ Annabeth in the same sitting,” said Jason and then looked at Nico over the top of his glasses, a habit Nico could already tell was destined to get annoying fast. “I was even more surprised you copped to the crush while coming out.”

To be honest, Nico hadn’t considered coming out without the crush. His sexuality had developed while locked in on Percy, and he hadn’t ever considered until very recently the concept of liking boys who weren’t Percy.

It was a little frightening to realize that there was an entire world lurking beyond his feelings for Percy Jackson.

Now that Jason brought it up though, he cringed at how it had gone down. Thank God for Annabeth and her high-five, at least that he could look back on without wincing too much.

“Anyway, I’m glad they took it well,” said Jason. “Percy did take it well, didn’t he?”

Jason’s tone implied that Nico had only to say the word, and if Percy hadn’t taken it well then he’d soon be taking a punch to the face.

“He was fine with it,” said Nico shortly and at Jason’s skeptical look added, “he really was, though. He’s sweet. He wants to be better friends.”

“Good,” said Jason.

“So, um, who else knows?” asked Nico not sure if he wanted to find out.

“I dunno, I mean it’s definitely not the hot camp gossip of the moment, but I’m pretty sure we all do—your friends I mean—we all know,” said Jason. “And we’ve got your back, Mr. Delicate.”

“Very funny,” said Nico sarcastically but relieved by Jason’s words all the same. 

“So, when can you bust out of here?” asked Jason.

Nico shrugged. “Will said he wanted three days bed-rest minimum, so maybe tomorrow.”

“Well, don’t check out until you’re ready,” said Jason. “I don’t want to have to worry about you fading away.”

Jason’s eyes were stormy blue behind his glasses, somehow clearer than without them. He really was very handsome; Nico had to admit, especially when he focused all of his intensity on something or someone.

“Anyway,” Jason went on, “In the mean time I guess you can draw up plans for remodeling your cabin.” Nico coughed into his fist to cover his surprise. He hadn’t expected Jason to remember that from the other day.

While Nico was still very much into death as a motif, his aesthetic had matured since he was a kid, or so he liked to think. He wanted to make some changes, especially if he was ever going to invite a boy back to his cabin for… stuff _._

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” said Nico.

Will knocked on the open door and leaned his head in. “Hey, Nico, it’s time for your afternoon dose.”

“I should get going,” said Jason. He put a hand on Nico’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Don’t bust out until you’re 100%, deal?”

“Sure thing, mom,” said Nico and Jason poked him in the shoulder, hard. “Jerk.”

“Say thank you for the McDonalds, Nico,” said Jason, poking him again.

“Thank you for the McDonalds, Nico,” he said, and Jason poked him again.

“Stop harassing him, Grace,” Will said sharply to Jason, but less than what he’d greeted Percy with. Jason stopped and grinned at Nico and then he did the most obnoxious wink Nico had ever seen. And Nico had known Percy for years now.

 It took all of Nico’s considerable willpower to not just curl up and _die_.

“See ya later, Nico. Will,” said Jason, backing out of the room. When he was behind Will, he tipped his glasses down and mouthed something while pointing at Will. Nico made a vulgar gesture in response.

“You know, for someone who is so convinced he has no friends, you’re pretty popular,” said Will as he settled in by Nico’s bed. Nico only now noticed that Will had brought a guitar with him. It had clearly seen a lot of use, but the sounds Will coaxed out of it even just tuning it were rich and lustrous.

“You can play?” asked Nico, and then wished he hadn’t because it was a patently stupid question.

“Yeah, I can. It’s the kind of thing you learn about people if you don’t spend all your time being ‘woe-is-me,'” said Will and Nico bristled. What was Will’s problem today? “Drink your draught while I get this guy in tune.”

Nico very much wanted to tell Will to screw off. He wasn’t bothering to hide his feelings either, so when Will looked up to see why Nico hadn’t taken the draught his eyes went wide. Then he sighed, defeated.

“I’m sorry, I’m being a jackass.”

“Yeah, you are,” said Nico. “You made your point when the Romans were trying to kill us. If you keep shoving it my face, then whatever friends I make you won’t be one of them.”

Will looked stricken and then stared at his shoes. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just—I won’t bring it up again. You’re doing much better, and I’m really glad to see that, and I don’t want to make that any more difficult. You can… see another healer, if you want.”

“It’s fine,” said Nico. It wasn’t fine actually, but Nico knew it would be. Will had meant his apology, and that was what counted. Nico knew that he had a hard time letting things go, it was the fatal flaw of Hades’ children after all, so it was important for him to accept apologies when they were offered.

Forgiveness required effort.

Nico picked the vial up from its stand and began drinking the draught, slowly. Will went back to tuning his guitar, but the mood had dipped. Whatever was between them had been momentarily stymied.

When Nico finished his draught, Will was strumming a little melody and clearly ready to begin.

“Just lay back, and close your eyes,” said Will and Nico did. A moment later Will began to play, and Nico was lost. The sounds washed over him like warm water that wasn’t wet. He drifted into a place where time did not exist, and he was suspended in a single moment of melody, bound by a sound that did not change.

One moment it seemed he was in a waking dream, the next he was waking up and Will was flexing his hand, his fingertips raw and red from playing, despite his calluses.

“How long was that?” asked Nico.

“Longer than I should have been playing,” said Will, but he looked distracted. “Can I see your wrist?”

He took Nico’s pulse and made a cursory examination of his reflexes and vision.

As Will examined Nico, he became more obviously consternated, until finally Nico couldn’t restrain himself anymore. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” said Will finally. “You’re not getting better as fast as you should be.”

“How can you tell?” asked Nico but Will had already turned away and was putting his guitar in its case.

“It’s like… I need to talk to Chiron,” said Will firmly. Nico sighed and flopped back on the bed.

“Can I, at least, have a break from bed-rest? Go outside for a bit? I promise not to shadow travel or anything, it’s just so boring in here,” Nico complained and then stopped because Will wasn’t even paying the slightest bit of attention to him, and was, in fact, walking quickly out of the room.

“Okay…” said Nico to the empty room after Will had left. “That isn't worrying at all.”


	3. Chapter 3

Camp Half Blood – The Big House

_Love is not always blind--sometimes it just hurts too much to look_

Will 

Will was worried. Something was wrong, and he desperately hoped that he was wrong in turn about its cause. But his cabin-mates had been reporting the same problem, and that didn’t bode well.

Their powers were fading. Not totally disappeared, but certainly reduced. The healing hymns were less effective than they should be, and Will had needed his guitar to sing them powerfully enough to help Nico. Even then, it hadn’t been what it ought to.

His siblings thought their weakening powers just stemmed from exhaustion, from working for days on end to heal wounded demigods, but Will knew it wasn’t so benign. He didn’t get many prophetic impulses, but he knew one when it happened. This felt significant, and not in a good way.

Will hurried down the stairs of the Big House and stopped short when he saw who was waiting for him at the door to Chiron’s office.

“Rachel?” he asked. What was the Oracle doing— _uh oh,_ he thought. This might be even worse than he’d imagined.

“Hey, Will,’ said Rachel, slipping her smartphone into a pocket. If there was one thing Will didn’t like about being a demigod besides the whole mortal peril bit, it was not being able to have a cell phone. Supposedly the Hephaestus kids had been working on a texting app for demigods while they worked on a phone, but that was before the war had broken out and their last counselor had died. “How’s Nico?”

“Uh, he’s doing okay,” said Will. He didn’t bother asking Rachel how she knew Nico had come in for treatment. “How are you?”

“Concerned,” she said frankly. “For the same reason, you are. Come on. Chiron needs to hear about this.”

She opened the office and Will trailed in after her. Chiron was doing paperwork at his desk, and looked up in mild surprise at his two guests.

“Rachel, Will, this is a pleasant surprise. How may I help you?”

Will looked to Rachel but she gestured at him to speak up. So he told Chiron what was happening.

Chiron’s face grew heavier as he listened, and when Will finished he turned to Rachel and she nodded. The ancient centaur sighed and leaned back in his wheelchair.

“This is… unfortunate. I must send a message to Olympus at once,” said Chiron.

“No, you need to round up all the cabin heads. A message from Olympus will be here soon,” said Rachel. Chiron gave her a long, steady look. “I may not be able to drop prophecies right now, but I still know a bit about how things are going to happen.”

“Fair enough, I will send out messages to everyone.”

“Will, you should probably go and get Nico,” said Rachel and the look she turned on him made Will feel decidedly transparent. He hoped he wasn’t blushing too much.

“Right, sure. Good idea,” he said, clearing his throat, and then power-walked away. He heard Chiron ask Rachel a question and desperately hoped that it wasn’t about his odd behavior.

Will had been drawn to Nico since the first moment he met him—not that he expected Nico to remember, he’d had other things going on. When news about Bianca had hit the camp, all Will had wanted to do was find the other boy and comfort him despite barely knowing him. Of all the boys their age Nico had been by far the cutest and Will had wanted to hug him and cuddle him forever. Then Nico had disappeared, and when he returned to camp Will had been claimed by his father and there was a war on and Nico wasn’t exactly open to making friends.

Now they were older, and Will wanted more than just comforting cuddles (although cuddling was awesome and he was very much looking forward to it).

Even if Nico hadn’t been into guys—or Will specifically—Will had still wanted to be his friend. Luckily for Will that hadn’t been the case. And judging by the little moments they’d been having lately Will was feeling pretty good about his chances. He could have sworn they were going to kiss yesterday before freaking Jackson had walked in and ruined the moment.

Will was also 99% certain that while he’d been crushing on Nico from afar, Nico had been crushing on Percy. He tried not to let it get to him, especially since he knew Percy didn’t have a mean bone in his body, but he didn’t like it when Percy got close to Nico. It was pretty crap of him—Nico deserved all the support he was offered, and Will didn’t want to be an ass about it, but sometimes his feelings got the better of him, and he ran his mouth.

He knocked on Nico’s door. “Nico, you up?”

There was no response. Frowning, Will pushed open the door and stared at the empty bed. He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing, the last thing he needed was to lose his temper, but it was hard when a patient could be so _utterly boneheaded._

He needed to find Nico, and then he was going to give him a piece of his mind. He whirled around to stomp off angrily and was pulled up short by Nico standing in the doorway. He was still wearing his infirmary pajamas, but also had pulled on his military looking black leather boots. With his tousled hair and slight frame he looked adorable and Will wanted very little more than to pull him close and kiss him.

Or yell at him for breaking bed rest. Either would have been fine.

“Hey, Will, it’s not time for more draught is it?” he asked.

“Where were you?” Will demanded, and Nico pulled back before responding in kind.

“I took a little walk around the house, what the hell is your problem?” said Nico as he walked past Will. He kicked off his shoes and hopped up on the bed.

“That’s all? No shadow travel?” said Will and Nico gave him a cold look that might have been intimidating if he weren’t wearing plaid and his shirt wasn’t unbuttoned enough that Will had to keep himself from staring at his pale olive-skinned chest.

“I’m not an idiot,” said Nico and his tone implied that the only idiot in the room was the one currently talking to him.

“Sorry, you’re right, I’m just—something’s happening, Chiron wants all the counselors for a meeting,” said Will.

“What’s going on?” asked Nico, looking a little worried. “And can you…”

“Yeah,” said Will, turning his back so Nico could change. He really wanted to take a peek, but that would be the absolute height of grossness, so he kept his back stiff and stared straight ahead.

“Okay, let’s go,” said Nico, and now Will could look. Nico’s hair, clothes, and general demeanor was rumpled, still a bit sleepy, and didn’t exactly smell fresh.

And Will still wanted nothing more than to tackle him onto a cot and kiss him breathless.

Instead, they walked downstairs and into the big room used for meetings. Chiron was already there, and so was Mr. D. They were talking in hushed tones in the back of the room, and neither of them looked happy.

“Will!” Will turned around just in time to get squished in a fierce hug. He pulled back and made a super undignified squeaking noise that he wished Nico hadn’t been witness to.

“Dad?” he exclaimed as he returned Apollo’s hug. Then he pulled back again. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be on Olympus.”

“Well…” said Apollo, clearly hesitating over how to answer that.

“Save it for the meeting, Sunshine,” said Mr. D as he took a seat at the table by Chiron’s spot. “Where are the rest of them?”

“Everyone is on their way,” said Chiron mildly. Mr. D grumbled and pulled a diet coke out of thin air. Meanwhile, Apollo had turned his attentions to Nico.

“Hey there, Nico, I haven’t seen you for a while,” said Apollo and ruffled Nico’s hair, a move that if he weren’t a god would probably have seen him lose his hand. Nico did glower at Apollo, though, but the god just grinned back at him.

“Hey, Chiron, what’s going on?” Percy came in the door followed by the other counselors. Not every cabin had a counselor, but the room still filled up quickly. Apollo clapped Will on the shoulder and went to set beside Chiron, on the other side from Mr. D.

“Nico, how are you doing?” Annabeth had taken Nico’s arm, and Piper was flanking him on his other side, Percy and Jason standing just behind them. Will wanted to reach out and grab Nico away from them, but he said nothing as they maneuvered Nico in their little group, like the popular kids in a high school lunchroom.

Will sighed and slumped into a chair. A second later Lou Ellen and Clovis sat down beside him.

“All right, what the hell is going on now?” Clarisse had arrived with Chris in tow, and she looked none to happy about it.

“Please have a seat, Clarisse,” said Chiron. “Now that everyone is here, we will tell you.”

Mr. D finished his diet coke and tossed the can away. It vanished, and he pulled a fresh can out of the air. When everyone was seated and quiet Chiron cleared his throat.

“Before I say anything else, I want to tell you that we are _not_ facing another crisis of the magnitude we just faced,” said Chiron, and Will saw more than one person relax. “However, that does not mean we are faced with an easy or unimportant task.”

“You gonna stop beating around the bush and tell us what’s up?” asked Percy and Will tried not to hate him just for existing. Percy was sitting right next to Nico, as though that wasn’t going to make Nico uncomfortable—and the worst part was Nico really didn’t look uncomfortable. He looked calm, and when Jason, who sat on his other side, leaned down to whisper something to him, he almost cracked a smile.

Will realized that Chiron had just finished saying something, and now his dad was standing up.

“I have… lost my powers,” said Apollo and a hush blanketed the room. “Not permanently, but at least for the next year.”

Mr. D grumbled something and Apollo shot him a frown.

“Zeus still blames you for everything, doesn’t he?” said Jason and Apollo nodded and how the _hell_ did Jason Grace know more about what was going on with Will’s father than Will did?

“And this matters to us, why?” asked Clarisse. “No offense, sir, but I don’t know what we’re supposed to do about this.”

“With the loss of their Augur, Camp Jupiter needs someone to fill in until they can train up a new one,” said Chiron. Will felt eyes on him but when he looked at Nico, the other boy looked away. Did Nico think that Will thought badly of him for what happened with Octavian? “Lord Apollo has volunteered to spend his… sentence assisting Camp Jupiter in this capacity.”

“Except that the source of prophecy at Delphi is still blocked.” Everyone turned to look at Rachel was leaning in the doorway. “And without that, we are totally flying blind.”

“What about Ella?” asked Percy, and Will had a vague memory of an odd harpy that was very fond of Percy’s Cyclops brother.

“Ella only remembers fragments of the Sibylline prophetic collection, most of which we have yet to record and sort,” said Chiron. “Lord Apollo is also going to assist in that endeavor. We need to reclaim Delphi and to make sure Lord Apollo reaches Camp Jupiter safely. Two quests, six people.”

“Wait—you’re only going to send three people to Delphi?” asked Percy incredulously. “The ancient lands are like one giant death trap! We barely made it with seven!”

“Except this time you won’t have Gaea and her forces dogging your heels,” said Chiron patiently. “And the authority of Olympus is being reinstated across the Western world.”

Mr. D snorted, and Apollo shot him a quelling look. Will wasn’t the only one to notice either.

“So if you only need six people, why call in all of us?” asked Lou Ellen.

“Without the gift of prophecy, we know nothing about what might happen on these quests,” said Chiron. “We are not aware of the nature of the dangers you might face except in the broadest sense, and we have no hints as to whether someone specific needs to go on one or the other journey. So both of these quests will be filled on a volunteer basis from the most powerful and experienced of our campers, our counselors.”

The counselors looked at one another, and Will elbowed Clovis in the ribs when it seemed like he was drifting off.

“Delphi is blocked by a dragon, right?” asked Jake. Will knew that Jake hadn’t wanted to take up the mantle of counselor for Cabin 9 again, but with Leo dead and Nyssa unwilling there had been no one else qualified.

“Yes, the dragon Python, whom Lord Apollo vanquished many years ago,” said Chiron.

“That was a hell of a fight,” said Apollo fondly, and then turned more serious. “It will be a dangerous quest. Python is old and cunning and strong.”

“Yeah, but you beat him, so it can’t be that hard,” said Mr. D and Will glared at him along with his dad.

“As I was saying,” said Chiron hurriedly but not before Apollo cut him off.

“You got something you want to say, Dio?” Mr. D flushed an angry red at the nickname.

“Yeah, how’s it fair that I still have a fifty year sentence to run out for flirting with a wood nymph while you—who Zeus blames for _starting the second Titanomachy_ —get just _one_ year.”

“He took away my powers! At least you still have yours,” protested Apollo and Mr. D sneered at him.

“My lords, please,” said Chiron and both gods sniffed and turned away from each other, like little children. It was all a bit surreal to Will.

Someone was snickering very quietly, and Will turned to look. Percy was red faced and biting his lip, Nico looked smug, Jason was clearly struggling to keep quiet, and Piper’s hand was covering her mouth. Even the corner of Annabeth’s mouth was twitching at whatever secret joke they were sharing.

They really were the popular kids.

Will hated it.

“Something funny, Preston?” snapped Mr. D and after a beat, Will realized he was talking to Percy.

“No, sir,” Percy choked out.

“Gods, Jackson, keep it together for once in your life,” said Clarisse and Percy scowled at her.

Will had never been very fond of Clarisse. She was a bully even if she’d mellowed since he first started at camp. But maybe it was time to reconsider his stance on her.

“I’m not sure you have much room to lecture other people about decorum, Clarisse,” said Annabeth with all the disingenuous sweetness of a Texas Homecoming Queen congratulating her runners-up.

Yeah, they were _definitely_ the popular kids.

The look Clarisse turned on Annabeth would have killed a weaker woman. Luckily, Chris put his hand on Clarisse’s knee and whispered something to her, and she subsided.

“Everyone, please, we have seen too much fighting to do so amongst ourselves,” said Chiron sharply. There was a general shuffling of feet and murmurs of apology from the guilty parties, and even Apollo looked slightly abashed. Mr. D acted like he didn’t care, summoning another can.

“So, how do we decide who goes?” asked Pollux and there was a slightly metallic crinkle from Mr. D’s grip on his diet coke can. There was no way that Pollux would be allowed to go on the quest. By now everyone knew that although Mr. D would never show it, he loved his children deeply, and the loss of Castor still weighed on him. Pollux would be lucky if he were ever allowed on a quest again.

“Python is an ancient and terrible foe—only those who feel comfortable fighting such a beast should volunteer for the quest,” said Chiron.

“So basically none of the weaklings,” sneered Clarisse. “That leaves—what… me, Jackson, Walker, and Grace?”

Every other demigod in the room glared at her, except her boyfriend who just shook his head looking bemused. Clarisse patted him on the shoulder.

“Sorry, Chris, you know I love you, but you’re a thief, not a dragon-slayer.”

“A party of powerful warriors could certainly kill Python,” said Apollo and Mr. D scoffed loudly.

“Yeah but they have to make it to Delphi first. If you send only muscle heads, they’re going to get themselves killed before they even cross the Atlantic. That is if they don’t turn on each other first.”

“Hey, Jason and I get along fine,” said Percy and Jason gave Percy a look. “What? Don’t we?”

“I’m not saying we don’t,” said Jason, clearly considering his words carefully. “But a three-man team doesn't have room for two leaders.”

“So what you’re actually saying is you would need someone to come along who can boss both of you around,” said Piper, resting her chin on Jason’s shoulder and grinning impishly. “I think that qualifies just Annabeth and me. Maybe Nico.”

“If they know what’s good for them,” said Nico all too mildly.

Percy made a face at Nico and the room tittered.

Will realized he was grinding his teeth and stopped.

 “Hold on, we’re going about this in a roundabout way,” said Annabeth, and somewhere she had found a clipboard, some paper, and a pencil because of course she had. “Chiron, you said we would have a general idea of what dangers each quest would face? We should tally those up and see what skillsets would most benefit each mission. And I don’t think we need to worry about volunteers—after everything we’ve been through I don’t think anyone here would turn down a quest, especially not one this important.”

Chiron bowed his head to Annabeth. “As always, Miss Chase, a well-reasoned decision.”

A loud snore ripped apart the focus of the room and Will realized he’d forgotten to keep elbowing Clovis into wakefulness. The Stoll brothers eyed Clovis like lions watching a baby wildebeest wander away from its mother’s herd.

“All right,” said Rachel clapping her hands together. “Ten minute break, people. Take your naps, get your snacks, and don’t be late coming back. Annabeth and I are going to draw up some lists with Chiron, Apollo and Mr. D. Now scat!”

Will thought that Rachel was being awfully informal with his dad, even if she was Apollo’s chosen oracle. But everyone else was clearing out, so Will stood up, debated waking Clovis, and then was hauled out by the wrist because apparently Lou Ellen had something on her mind.

“What was all that about?” she said after she pulled him outside.

“All what?” asked Will, honestly confused about what she meant.

“You looking like you wanted to tear Percy Jackson limb from limb,” she said bluntly.

“No I wasn’t!” said Will. Lou Ellen rolled her eyes and what she might have said next Will thankfully never had to find out because Nico was walking over.

“Hey, Lou Ellen. Will, isn’t it time for me to have another draught?” said Nico when he got close.

“It is,” said Will, “but the meeting’s not over yet, and it doesn’t really matter if we do it now or 20 minutes from now.”

“Okay, cool,” said Nico. “I’m gonna run back to my cabin and change into something not so rank, don’t let them start without me.”

“Of course not,” said Will and Nico grinned at him and Will grinned back and for a second Nico wasn’t going anywhere. Then someone shouted in the distance, which broke the tension. Will watched Nico trot off until Lou Ellen slugged him in the shoulder.

“What the hell was that for?” said Will. She’d nearly given him a dead arm.

“Seriously?” asked Lou Ellen. “Of all the boys in camp you picked Nico freaking di Angelo?”

“Hey, not so loud,” hissed Will. “I don’t know how out he is. Also, what’s wrong with Nico?”

“Nothing I guess, if you like them short, surly, and super-creepy,” said Lou Ellen but she was speaking quietly.

“Hey, Nico’s been through a lot,” said Will and then realized he was parroting Percy’s words from earlier.

“Like the rest of us haven’t? Look I’m not going to judge you or whatever—I mean not more than you’d expect me to—but there are a lot of cute boys at this camp to choose from, and out of all of them you picked the son of Hades with the perpetual chip on his shoulder?”

“You know, Nico thinks that people at this camp hate or fear him for who his father is,” said Will, trying not to get angry at Lou Ellen, who was his friend and just looking out for him. “I told him that wasn’t true. I told him that people judge him for who he is, not his father. I would really hate to think those were lies I told him.”

Apollo’s children didn’t like to tell lies, mostly because they were awful at it. Half-truths? Those they could manage. Outright lies tended to fumble up in their mouths, though, stumbling over words like they’d forgotten how to speak. In any event, Lou Ellen got his point.

“Fine, I’m not trying to be a bitch. Just—you can smell the issues on that kid from fifty paces,” she said. “You're my friend, Will, and I want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he said with so much sarcasm packed into the words they almost came back around as sincere. Almost.

“Whatever, don’t come crying to me when it all goes pear-shaped,” she said, and Will rolled his eyes when she slipped into a bad English accent.

“You need to stop watching BBC,” said Will and Lou Ellen gasped.

“How _dare_ you,” she said and then walked away still facing him clutching at her heart. “I am done talking to you, Will Solace. You have hurt me in ways that will _never_ heal.”

“Di Immortales,” muttered Will as he massaged his temples as Lou Ellen whirled off to do whatever she wanted—like she always did.

“Women, am I right?” Will looked up into the twinkling, sky-blue eyes of Jason Grace, now somewhat magnified by his glasses, which were of course very stylish wire frames.

Jason had reigned near the top of Will’s private list of Hottest-Dudes-at-Camp ever since he arrived. Nico was adorable, and Will wanted to snuggle him forever, but Jason was so hot he sizzled. And his new glasses that made him look older and thoughtful weren’t helping Will keep his libido in check.

It didn’t mean he particularly liked Jason though. Of course he also didn’t know Jason very well either.

“I wouldn’t know,” said Will a little more rudely than he’d actually intended, but to his surprise Jason smiled broadly at him.

“Is that so?” he asked and he sounded so easy going that Will couldn’t take offense.

Jason’s little smirk that was definitely _not sexy in any way_ had nothing to do with it.

“Why do you want to know?” asked Will and Jason shrugged, still smiling. It was a little unsettling how good-natured Jason acted.

“No reason. Just being friendly.”

“Uh huh,” said Will and tried not to be irrationally irritated. But then Percy joined them.

“Hey, where’s Nico?” Percy asked as he walked up.

“He left, I assume to get something form his cabin,” said Jason, “Will?”

“Yeah,” said Will. He didn’t really want to talk to either of them, although of the two he’d rather talk to Jason. Percy Jackson was a good guy, Will knew this, and Percy was also a bonafide hero, he was aware of that this too. “A change of clothes.”

These were things he was trying to focus on.

“Is he doing okay?” asked Percy in a low voice, as though Nico might pop out from nowhere and overhear them. To be fair, this was not an unreasonable concern under normal circumstances. “Reyna told me about the fading thing, and that didn’t sound good.”

“He’s doing much better,” said Will. Percy was just a concerned friend—he was straight and had a girlfriend. These were also important things to remember, Will decided. “If he lays off the shadow travel for a bit longer he’ll be fine.”

“So he’ll definitely be able to shadow-travel when he’s healed up?” asked Jason and Will nodded. Both of the other boys exhaled in relief.

It was hard to be jealous or resentful of them when he saw that they really did care about Nico.

“Is this a ‘boys only’ conversation, or can anyone join?” Suddenly Piper was squeezing in between Jason and Will.

“We were just checking up on Nico with his doctor,” said Jason as Piper let her weight list into his side.

“Doesn’t that violate patient confidentiality?” she teased, and Will coughed.

“Technically I’m not really a doctor,” he said.

“Yeah, we kinda know that,” said Jason as Piper leaned harder against him and he had to brace himself. “Pipes you’re going to push me over.”

“Deal with it,” she said, “you big wuss.”

“ _Excuse me_?” Jason squawked, and Percy laughed at him.

It was all a bit too much for Will. No wonder Nico was so grouchy, being around this much goodwill and cheer outside of Christmas couldn’t be healthy.

“What are they laughing about?” said a voice behind Will’s shoulder. Nico was back, and wearing his usual color what with his plain black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, black belt, and black combat boots. Will was actually surprised Nico didn’t have black fingernail polish or a couple of gauges in his ears. Maybe that stuff seemed too far out there for a kid from the 40’s.

“Who knows,” said Will. Nico’s hair was damp; he’d apparently squeezed in a shower during his quick trip. There was actually a bit of soap still on his neck. Will moved to brush it off but Nico flinched back, and they both froze. Nico lowered his guard and Will—who had planned to make the gesture very casual—couldn’t help his fingers lingering after he had smudged the soap away.

“Nico!” exclaimed Percy and Will jumped back to a more appropriate distance. Piper was smiling at him while Jason was looking at Percy like he was an idiot. Will suddenly felt a bit more kindly disposed towards Jason. Also a little embarrassed about being so transparent. “You all freshened up?”

“So very fresh,” said Nico, utterly without inflection. “Are they done inside yet?”

As if on cue, Annabeth leaned outside and called for everyone to come back.

This time, Nico stuck by Will when they went for seats, and the rest of the popular crowd followed them. Will found himself sitting between Nico and Percy, and not sure how to feel about it. Lou Ellen was sitting across the way with the Stoll brothers, and when Will made eye contact with her, she arched an eyebrow so high that it nearly flew up her forehead.

Annabeth cleared her throat. She was standing between Chiron and Apollo. Mr. D looked like he wasn’t even paying attention.

“After careful review of the obstacles each group is likely to encounter in their quest and a thorough evaluation of all of our strengths and weaknesses, we have arrived at the conclusion that—“

“Percy, Jason, Nico, you’re Delphi. Will, Connor, Lou Ellen, you’re Camp Jupiter. If you didn’t hear your name you can go,” said Rachel and when Annabeth glowered at her she didn’t seem to notice. “Sorry, you were taking too long.”

“You mean after all that I don’t even get to kill something?” demanded Clarisse.

“Yeah, and why does Connor get to go on this little trip and I don’t?” said Travis, and he was smiling, but there was an edge to it that made Will think he wasn’t too happy at being separated from his brother.

“And isn’t having kids of the big three together kinda dangerous?” asked Will. He wanted to go on a quest with his dad, even depowered as he was, but he was also a bit concerned about the other group.

“It is,” said Annabeth. “We’re counting on it, in fact.”

“Say what now?” asked Percy looking alarmed.

“Lord Apollo is going to be… somewhat vulnerable in transit between here and Camp Jupiter,” said Chiron hesitantly, as if choosing his words with great care. “That is why Team Jupiter is designed for speed and stealth. Team Delphi needs more combat power and less subtlety, and that means drawing attention. However the more attention drawn by Team Delphi, the less there might be to pursue Team Jupiter.”

“So what you’re saying is we’re going to be monster magnets on purpose,” said Percy. “I just want to be clear because that sounds like a _terrible_ _plan_.”

Annabeth actually looked a bit offended by that, but Rachel just flipped Percy off with a winning smile.

“What are you talking about?” said Clarisse looking at Percy as though he were insane. “It sounds awesome, and I hate you for taking my spot.”

“I didn’t take your spot!” Percy protested. “You never had a spot!”

“Python is also a dragon of the earth,” said Annabeth in an attempt to regain group focus. “Percy and Nico have power over the earth and Jason can avoid that element entirely. Trust me. I’ve come at this from every angle—“

“You mean _we’ve_ come at this from every angle,” said Rachel sweetly. Will wondered if those two had some history, and noticed that Percy was cringing a bit. On his other side, Nico was trying to hide a smile.

Apparently the whole “crushing on Percy Jackson” thing was a common affliction at Camp Half Blood. Maybe there was something in the water. As a medical professional, Will felt obligated to find a cause and then a cure. He’d have to get right on that.

“Yes. Of course,” said Annabeth, and she actually did look a bit chastened. “If there are no objections— _from people_ _on the teams_ , _Clarisse_ —then meet back here tomorrow around noon. Chiron?”

“I think that just about covers everything, Annabeth,” said Chiron with the detached amusement of the deeply patient. “You are all dismissed.”

“I suppose it’s back to bed rest,” said Nico. Will was opening his mouth to respond when his dad practically bounded over.

“Hey, Will, let’s head back to the cabin and say hi to everyone,” said Apollo. Will felt torn. He wanted to spend as much time with his dad as possible, but he couldn’t let Nico go on a quest tomorrow without being fully healed.

Also, he wanted to spend more time with Nico. Something was on the verge of happening between them. He could feel it. Except that even though Apollo was a much more active parent than most gods there was never really enough time, and Will treasured the moments they spent together.

But…

“Dad I really have to make sure Nico is well enough to go on his quest tomorrow,” said Will and Apollo frowned.

“What’s wrong with him? He looks fine.”

Will looked at Nico, who shrugged, and Will quickly explained about Nico’s shadow-travelling and how the underworld magic had worn down his body.

“Oh-well I can fix that right up,” said Apollo easily. “Detenebration, easy peasy.”

“Without your powers?” Nico blurted out. Apollo looked smug.

“ _Bereft of mojo_

_Knowledge still equals power_

_And my knowledge remains._

Come upstairs we’ll get this settled in a jiffy. And then Will knows what to do if you over-extend yourself again.” Apollo smiled winningly.

It was a pretty good effort for a Haiku, Will thought. But his dad could just never seem to nail that syllable count.


	4. Chapter 4

Long Island – Montauk Yacht Club

_Faith is a promise that is never truly answered_

Jason 

In his life, Jason had done many fantastic and fantastical things, seen sights that mortals could only imagine. He had gazed on the true form of a god and survived, flown through the sky under his own power, and he could hurl lightning from his fingertips.

But he’d never been on a sixty-odd-foot long half-million dollar sailing catamaran.

“Dude!” Percy poked his head inside the spacious main cabin. Jason tore himself away from staring at the giant TV that dominated the small sitting area. “There is a _freaking_ _hot-tub_ back here!”

“No there isn’t you lying liar,” said Jason and clambered up the stairs after Percy. As it turned out he wasn’t lying. It wasn’t a large one, but four people could fit comfortably if a bit intimately in it. For three people it’d be perfect.

“I am almost a little jealous right now,” said Annabeth as she laid a hand on the steering wheel, examining all of the electronics surrounding it. Jason would be willing to bet his sword that she desperately wanted to start flipping switches and turning dials to figure out how everything worked.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice boat,” said Piper, sounding just a bit less impressed than the rest of them. Maybe the boat reminded her of her dad and that whole life, Jason thought. She didn't exactly look upset, but she wasn't happy either. Regardless, Jason wasn't just going to stand by and let that go down unopposed.

He swooped over to where Piper was sitting, staring at the water, and pulled her up into his arms.

“Not as nice as you,” he said, and she smiled at him, and they kissed.

“See, Percy? That’s what an attentive boyfriend looks like.” Jason grinned against Piper’s lips.

“Hey! I’m an attentive boyfriend! I pay lots of attention! I am, in fact, naturally attentive. Maybe it’s you who doesn’t pay attention to me!” Piper pulled back and giggled, her kaleidoscope colored eyes were warm and deep like Jason could fall into them forever.

“We joke around a lot Percy, but I’m worried you may actually have kelp for brains because what you just said _makes no sense whatsoever_.”

“See? You pay no attention to me so you don’t understand me, you’re an un-attentive girlfriend.”

“They are so married,” whispered Piper in his ear as Annabeth corrected Percy’s grammar and Jason bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“I know, it’s gross, right?” Jason paused when he noticed the banter had gone quiet. “They’re making out now, aren’t they?”

“You don’t want to turn around, I can tell you that much,” said Piper and then disentangled from Jason to pull him outside. “We should go wait for Nico to come back, he doesn’t need to walk in on this.”

“Nico’s over Percy,” whispered Jason and Piper gave him that fond look of hers that told him she saw something he didn’t. “No? You don’t think so?”

“He may not be pining anymore, which is good, but he’s not over it. Trust me on this.” And he did, because he trusted her with everything. But since she was a daughter of Aphrodite, and way more perceptive with feelings than Jason was, he also trusted her expertise.

It made sense though. No one ever felt one way about something and then just stopped feeling that way full stop. Feelings didn’t just vanish, they lingered and bled into other emotions.

Speaking of Nico, Jason thought he heard his voice and perked up. Nico was walking down the dock, with another boy. A mortal, Jason realized. The other boy had blue and red streaks in his black hair, small dark gauges in his ears, and despite his dramatic slouch was still taller than Nico.

And if Jason was any judge about such things, he was definitely chatting Nico up. Nico didn’t look very receptive to it, but the boy’s good cheer seemed to be enough that Nico hadn’t driven him off yet.

“Jason, don’t look,” hissed Piper and he pulled his eyes off Nico and his new friend. “Nico doesn’t need an audience.”

“Right, sorry,” he said and then wondered why he was apologizing to Piper since she had only told Jason to stop looking so she could turn him around and look herself. “You scheming wench.”

“Hush, Sparky, I’m watching.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh! He just wrote his number on Nico’s hand!”

“My boy’s a natural,” said Jason proudly and Piper goosed him in the side, which of course meant war. So Jason didn’t notice Nico until his combat boots clomped onto the boat deck.

“Hey! Nico! How’s it going?’ asked Jason. He adjusted his glasses and tried to look casual and not like Piper hadn’t been running him around in circles on the deck. Nico raised an eyebrow at him, his expression otherwise inscrutable. “Anything interesting happen?”

“You were watching,” said Nico directly.

“I told him not to,” said Piper without a trace of shame. Jason gaped at her.

“I saw you too, Piper,” said Nico and she grinned.

“Good then I can congratulate you—who was he? He gave you his number, right?”

Nico shrugged and hunched in on himself, but he also uncurled his hand to show them the number. Piper moved to hug him, and after Nico got over his surprise and let her come in he gently returned the hug.

Jason hadn’t felt this happy in a while. They were on the verge of another dangerous quest but he felt utterly calm. He had a great girlfriend, his friends were happy and healthy, and right now Jason felt like he could conquer the world.

“His name is Tanner and he lives in Montauk,” said Nico with an almost befuddled look that made Jason smile so hard his face hurt. “He’s 18.”

“Ooh, an older man,” said Piper teasingly. “That’s really awesome, Nico. Do you think when you guys get back you might give Tanner a call?”

“Tanner, who’s Tanner?” Jason closed his eyes. Percy had to have some sort of internal compass that always pointed him straight due Bad Timing.

“Just some guy,” said Nico, stuffing his hand into his pocket.

Percy paused in the door his eyes narrowed, then he yelped and surged forward hard enough to lose his footing. Annabeth stepped out behind him wearing a wicked little grin.

“Move it, Seaweed Brain,” she said. “So, are we ready to go?”

“Almost, Chiron is still signing some stuff,” said Nico. He turned to Percy. “You realize that you’re going to have to sail us back to camp before I can summon a crew.”

“What, like it’s hard?” asked Percy. There was a group sigh. “Okay, wow—so screw you guys. Good luck driving the boat without me.”

“At this size I think it’s actually a ship,” said Annabeth, tapping her chin with one finger. “Not sure if that’s necessarily a size distinction though.”

“’A ship can carry a boat, a boat can’t carry a ship,’” quoted Nico. When they all looked at him he flushed from the attention. “What?”

“I always forget just how much random stuff you know,” said Percy. “You and Annabeth should have a knowledge-off.”

“Maybe after the quest to restore the power of prophecy, Kelp for Brains,” said Annabeth just a little patronizingly Jason thought, as she patted Percy on his shoulder. “Here come Chiron and Lou Ellen.”

Lou Ellen was wheeling Chiron down the dock, and for a second Jason could almost see the Mist swirling around her that convinced the charter company she and Chiron were a fabulously wealthy May-December couple and the rest of them were an experienced and competent sailing crew.

Once Chiron was wheeled up the ramp (under which Jason could hear the clip-clop of hooves) they were underway. The sails were unfurled, Jason pulled a steady breeze into them, and Percy manned the wheel, so to speak. He didn’t actually touch the wheel, but the boat moved on course anyway.

They sailed through calm water all the way back to Camp Half Blood. Between Jason and Percy it didn’t take very long, and they arrived in time for lunch. 

 

* * *

 

After lunch they met back up on the shore, or at least most of them did. Percy was nowhere in sight. Jason, Piper, and Nico began loading supplies on the ship while Annabeth went off to see what was taking Percy so long to pack.

“Are we really going to need all of this food?” asked Nico after they finally finished loading the freezer.

“Not unless you want to eat fish non-stop until we get to Gibraltar,” said Jason. “And that’s only if Percy can catch us anything in the middle of the ocean—speaking of which, where is Mr. Dorkus Maximus?”

“Ooh, I think I see him,” Piper called down from the main cabin. Jason and Nico went upstairs, but Piper was shaking her head.

“False alarm, it’s just Will wearing a hat,” she said and Nico visibly perked up—although the second he caught Jason watching him he glared at him. Jason was unfazed. “Oh, and Chiron’s here with the others.”

Chiron was accompanied by Apollo, who was talking animatedly, and Will, who had on a new black snapback with a stylized image of the sun on it. For a moment Jason felt a pang of jealousy, although after his last experience with Zeus at the end of the war it was mixed with a heavy dose of ambivalence.

He was definitely jealous of how Apollo seemed to care about his children and wasn’t afraid to show it.

“You have loaded all the necessary supplies?” Chiron asked after he’d boarded. Apollo was admiring the boat and Nico had drifted over to the side and was talking in low tones with Will.

“Yes, sir, we’ve got everything we need and a few things I hope we don’t,” said Jason and Chiron smiled wryly at him.

“In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensible,” quoted Chiron. “Dwight Eisenhower,” he added when Jason looked at him curiously. “Although the maxim’s truth is universal, at least in my experience.”

Given how old Chiron was, that was quite a lot of experience.

“Cool boat,” said Apollo as he came over. “I’m not big on sailing—more of a jet-ski guy myself—but to each their own. I suppose with you running the wind and Percy handling the water it’ll be smooth sailing to Delphi.”

Apollo obviously wanted the pun to be acknowledged.

No one did.

“Speaking of—where is Percy?” asked Chiron as Apollo looked on, visibly crestfallen. Jason was having a hard time not trying to lip read the conversation Nico was having with Will, it looked kind of intense—and Will had just turned Nico’s hand over to look at the number written on his palm and Jason was panicking more than a little. Should he go over and crash the conversation to save Nico?

“Sorry I’m late!” Maybe Percy’s timing wasn’t always terrible. He clambered up the stairs looking flushed, and Jason frowned because he also looked little—not upset exactly, but he was definitely putting on a good face. Annabeth followed a few steps behind him, and while she looked fine there was an edge to her smile.

While Jason wondered what happened Percy disappeared below deck to stow his stuff and Piper linked arms with Annabeth and pulled her away.

“Is there drama?” whispered Apollo in Jason’s ear.

“Um,” said Jason, really not sure how to respond to that.

“There’s always something going on with these brats,” said Mr. D, who had appeared from thin air, his diet coke in hand. “They’re all hormones and poor impulse control.”

“Then it is just as well we picked a trio who know how to work with one another,” said Chiron placidly. Percy trotted back up and made a beeline for Jason, not even glancing at Annabeth.

Something was up, but Jason would have to wait to find out what.

“Everyone is clear on our objective?” asked Chiron in a carrying voice that disrupted the side-conversations.

“Defeat Python and free the source of prophecy,” said Jason promptly. “And provide cover for Lord Apollo’s trip to Camp Jupiter.”

“Exactly.”

“Yay, we get to be bait,” said Percy sarcastically. “So—wait, who’s quest leader?”

“I assumed that was a question you would settle amongst yourselves,” said Chiron looking tired. Jason and Percy looked at each other, and then at Nico.

“I promise only to abuse my authority when it’s really funny,” said Nico solemnly. Percy rolled his eyes, and Jason covered his laugh with a cough.

“I am certain,” said Chiron with a slightly raised voice, “that you will defer to one another’s expertise as the situation warrants.”

Piper snickered, and even Annabeth cracked a small smile.

“Well, that’s settled then,” said Apollo. “Good luck on the quest guys!”

“Hold on,” said Mr. D, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a bent and twisted tube that looked like it was made of really bad glass. It called to mind the shape of a stylized lightning bolt. “Catch.”

Jason almost fumbled the catch because the second his fingers touched its rough, porous surface a shock ran through his body.

“Fresh from Olympus. Anyone gives you trouble who shouldn’t be, show that to them,” said Mr. D.

“Is that fulgurite?” asked Annabeth peering curiously at the thing in Jason’s hand. “It’s what happens when lightning strikes sand—fuses it all into glass.”

“Yeah, and that one was made with Zeus’s own master thunderbolt, so anyone who has sworn allegiance to Olympus will recognize it,” said Mr. D. He crumpled his diet coke and tossed it away to pull another one out of mid-air. Jason wondered if gods were immune to aspartame. Probably, they were immune to most things. Part of the whole immortality bit. “Consider it a badge of authority.”

“Good, now you won’t have to shadow-travel to get past Hercules,” said Piper.

“At least this time, I’ll know better than to mention Hera around him,” grumbled Jason and Piper gave him that smile that made the rest of the world slip away.

“Ooh,” said Apollo with a wince. “You brought up Hera in front of Herc?”

“What—you didn’t hear about that?” asked Mr. D.

“I was a little busy trying to convince Zeus that the second Titanomachy wasn’t my fault!” protested Apollo. “He thinks that if no one can channel a prophecy than it has no hold over fate, which is totally not how it works! But you know how he is when gets an idea in his head, it’s almost impossible to talk him around.”

“Understatement of the millennium,” said Mr. D and the sky rumbled despite not having a cloud in it. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you. What—worried you’re gonna get tied to your bed again?”

This time, the sky rumbled so loudly that it reverberated in the ground and water.

“My lords, please,” said Chiron and Jason wondered how much peacemaking Chiron was compelled to do with two gods in residence at camp. “Remember, we need to know when you enter the Mediterranean before we can send Lord Apollo off.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” said Percy snapping off what he probably thought was a crisp military salute.

“Good, the sooner you hit the ancient lands, the sooner I can get Sunshine here out of my prison sentence,” said Mr. D and when Apollo turned on him indignantly he vanished with a pop.

“Say your goodbyes and set sail as soon as you are able, we’re counting on you,” said Chiron. He and Apollo left, and that was when things got awkward.

Six people. Three couples. Except that Nico and Will weren’t technically a couple, Annabeth and Percy refused to make eye contact with each other, and Piper was doing that thing where she tried to pantomime messages to Jason with her eyebrows, and he was awful at reading those.

“Well,” said Jason a little too late to save the moment from being awkward. “We should probably get moving then.”

“Good luck, guys,” said Piper as she linked arms with Annabeth. Jason had a sinking feeling that a good-bye kiss was now completely out of the question. “Get back safely, okay?”

“That’s the plan,” chirped Percy, trying to sound upbeat. He did a half-decent job probably the only person he was fooling though was Will, who was trading sheepish looks with Nico.

They finished their goodbyes and Jason never did get his kiss before they set sail. Jason wished they could have flown, but they had been advised it was a particularly bad time to test Zeus’s patience. Taking the sea route also gave them time to get the word out that all three sons of the Olympian kings were together, fruit ripe for the picking.

Nico had summoned a sea captain for them and a couple of crewmen. He’d been on the verge of summoning a chef, but Jason had put his foot down. He didn’t want a zombie cooking for him, no matter how much Nico assured him it was perfectly sanitary if they wore gloves.

The crossing was due to take them about two weeks. Much faster time than a mortal expedition would take, but between Percy and Jason and the undead crew that never needed to rest or eat that was to be expected.

What _hadn’t_ been expected, at least by Jason, was the moping. If Nico had been in a foul mood Jason wouldn’t have been surprised. But Nico seemed fine, watching the ocean grow around them with a smile, until it devoured both horizons. Percy though…

Percy hadn’t even come above deck since they left the waters around Long Island. It was getting late now, or at least near dinnertime, and Jason was wondering if he should check on him.

“You going to check on Percy?” asked Nico.

Jason made a face at Nico, who smirked at him before the amusement lapsed and he started pensively tapping his fingers on his armrest.

“Something’s up with him and Annabeth, you think?” asked Nico.

“Something,” Jason agreed. “Normally they’re like a perfect storm of PDA… sorry if it made things awkward for you and Will.”

“It was okay,” said Nico and then flushed. “I mean—I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” said Jason. He closed his eyes and tried to get a sense of the surrounding weather. No storms pinged on his radar so if he were going to intervene with Percy now would be the time. “I’m gonna talk to him. Wanna get dinner started?”

“No,” said Nico and Jason paused mid-step. “If you had just let me summon a chef I wouldn’t have to.”

“Nico, please, would you just get something started? I’ll come up to take over as soon as I’m done with Percy,” said Jason.

“You don’t have to sound so pathetic,” grumbled Nico. “I was gonna do it anyway.”

“Thanks, man!” Jason called over his shoulder as he vaulted downstairs to knock on Percy’s cabin door.

The catamaran was big, but their bedrooms weren’t exactly spacious. There were four small bedrooms each with a double-twin bed and not room for much else. Jason and Percy were on one side of the ship, and Nico slept on the other.

Jason knocked on Percy’s door and heard a muffled invitation to enter. He pushed the door open and looked around.

Percy hadn’t bothered unpacking and putting his clothes away in the overhead dresser; his duffel was just dumped on the floor under a pile of his recently discarded clothes. Percy himself was in bed, curled up against the wall under a blanket, his back to the door and Jason.

“Hey, buddy, wanna tell me what’s up?” said Jason, gingerly taking a seat at the foot of the bed on the half Percy wasn’t occupying.

“Not really,” said Percy.

“Are you sure? I’m really good at keeping secrets,” said Jason and Percy laughed but it was a sharp, bitter sound.

“Yeah, so I hear,” said Percy.

“Okay, tell me you’re not actually upset about that. Nico didn’t exactly come out to me on his own. He got violently outed in front of me.”

“I know, I know,” said Percy. “It’s just… I’ve known Nico since he was a little kid, and I got his sister killed, and I’m a shitty friend, and I just suck!”

He punctuated this with a punch to the side of the boat. There was a little crack, but it wasn’t the snap of bone (which Jason had heard far too often) just the crack of wood veneer.

Whatever. The moment they’d decided to take the catamaran its days had become numbered. If they managed to get the boat back to Long Island in one piece, Jason would eat one of his camp shirts.

“Why do you suck, Percy?” asked Jason. It wouldn’t do any good to refute Percy’s self-loathing until he’d found out what was causing it.

“In Tartarus,” said Percy and Jason drew in a quick breath that hissed between his teeth. Tartarus was not something Jason could imagine enduring, the little that Nico, Annabeth, and Percy had spoken about sounded terrifying. “In Tartarus, if not for Nico then Annabeth and I would have died.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before, but never really explained what you meant,” said Jason.

“He—there was this Titan, Bob.”

“The one you dropped in the Lethe? Iapetus?” asked Jason, curious despite himself. “He helped you guys out, though, right?”

“Because of Nico,” said Percy. “Because Nico told him how wonderful I was, and what a good friend I was and I’m not, I’m really not.”

“Isn’t Nico the person who gets to say what kind of friend you are?” said Jason, trying to prod Percy a little. They could only dance around the subject for so long. Jason needed to strike while the iron was hot.

“Yeah,” said Percy with a sniffle.

“What’s going on, Percy, this isn’t like you,” said Jason.

“I’m not some happy go lucky idiot, Jason,” said Percy. “I’m not so dumb that I think everything is always blue food and fart jokes. I have problems too.”

There was venom in those words that was surreal to hear coming from Percy. Jason had never thought of Percy as ‘happy go lucky’, but he’d never considered what things might haunt Percy. They all had something, most of them more than one. Life as a demigod demanded sacrifice, invited tragedy, and always left scars. There wasn’t a person at Camp Half Blood or Camp Jupiter, who had escaped the war unscathed.

Intellectually Jason had known this, had known that Percy had gone through more than most. But he’d assumed Percy had it under control because Jason had his issues under control. Mostly. He’d assumed that Percy and Annabeth were doing fine because he and Piper were doing great. He’d taken Percy and Annabeth’s happiness and their plans at face value.

Apparently, Jason might have been the kind of shitty friend Percy thought that himself to be.

“That’s not what I meant,” said Jason patiently, “and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way because that’s not what I think. You’re my bro, Percy, and all I want to do is help you feel better.”

There was a lengthy pause from Percy. Jason waited, he could almost see Percy’s walls slowly tumbling down.

“It’s embarrassing.” And he was in.

“Percy, you know I won’t ever tell anyone what you say to me, and I won’t make fun of you no matter what you say. You can trust me.”

Percy mumbled something. Jason couldn’t make out a single word except the first: Annabeth.

“Sorry, buddy, I didn’t catch that,” said Jason and Percy sighed.

“Annabeth was—we were kissing goodbye, and she was, you know,” said Percy and made a telltale hand motion, “and I couldn’t… stay hard.”

Jason tried as hard as he could, but he couldn’t restrain a small noise of surprised and relieved laughter.

“You think it’s funny?” snarled Percy, whirling around on the bed.

“No, no, no, dude, I’m not laughing at you I swear,” said Jason. “I’m just glad it’s an easy fix. Come on, sit up.”

He guided Percy into a sitting position until he sat upright next to Jason, his legs dangling off the end of the bed bare feet poking out from under the blanket. Jason hadn’t noticed until now, but Percy wasn’t wearing any underwear, the blanket not entirely covering the pale skin at his hip.

Jason tore his eyes away before he made it awkward. “Okay, dude, I totally get how humiliating that can be, but it’s completely normal—“

“I’m 17,” snapped Percy. “A freaking breeze in my shorts can make me rock hard for an hour. _That’s_ normal.”

“Percy, dude, stop. Just listen to me for a minute.”

And Jason told Percy about how hand-jobs from a person who doesn’t know how to give a hand-job are the worst and no one should be expected to stay rock hard through one. He told Percy that most of sex is actually really embarrassing, how it’s not like it is in porn and that there are noises and fluids and cramping at crucial moments and much more. Jason even told him about the time he and Piper had been fooling around and Jason came in his pants from just a little under the shirt action.

He told Percy that sex made you vulnerable and frequently very embarrassed, and that’s why it should be explored with someone you trust.

It was one of the more intimate conversations Jason had ever had, especially since most of the time he was hyper-aware of Percy being undeniably naked under his blanket. After Jason finished talking Percy was looking contemplative and, more importantly, not distraught.

“So, you and Piper have had sex?” he asked because that was totally the takeaway Jason wanted him to have.

“We’ve done some stuff,” Jason said with a shrug. There hadn’t been a lot of time for sexual exploration what with the war and all, which had been frustrating because the looming possibility of death had given their urges an immediacy that never managed to be fulfilled.

Jason had been looking forward to spending a little more downtime with Piper before he went off on another madcap adventure.

“So, you feeling better, champ?” asked Jason and Percy snorted and shoved him good-naturedly. And since it was Percy, Jason reflexively pushed back, and then Percy shoved him again, and suddenly they were laughing and hitting each other and then Percy tried to _tickle Jason_.

He barely put up with it from Piper; he wasn’t going to take it from Percy.

Jason let out a squeal in a register he would deny being capable of until his dying day, and grabbed Percy by his wrists, and then flipped him on his back.

Percy was breathing heavily, his chest heaving with laughter, and Jason tightened his grip, staring at Percy’s sea green eyes through slightly akimbo glasses. Then Percy’s face turned tomato red, and Jason realized he was straddling Percy, and that the blanket wasn’t covering anything up anymore.

And Percy was chubbing up.

Jason coughed and scooted back so Percy could cover himself.

“Sorry, um,” said Jason and then laughed nervously. Percy was a good-looking dude, but that was a bit more of him than Jason was typically exposed to.

“You work fast, Grace. Normally I’d make a guy buy me dinner first,” said Percy lightly, and Jason relaxed. They were going to be okay.

“Well how about I make you something instead,” said Jason. “Get dressed and come out when you’re ready.”

“Thanks for checking on me,” said Percy in a quiet voice, and Jason gave him a cheesy thumbs up as he closed the door.

Problem solved. Jason was getting pretty good at this talking to people about their feelings bit, in his estimation. He wondered if he should get a little card and then remembered that he’d promised to help Nico make dinner, and he’d been gone _far too long_.

He ran up the stairs cursing and hoping Nico wasn’t too pissed at him.


	5. Chapter 5

The Mid-Atlantic

_A demigod is not a whole thing, neither human nor god_

_They exist in the space between things, where everything is possible_

_And nothing ever truly belongs_

Percy

They hadn’t even been at sea for a week, and Percy was already bored out of his mind. In the middle of the ocean there was nothing for miles, just water and wind, both things that he and Jason had to keep an eye on. At least storms and currents represented something to do, but with Nico’s literal skeleton crew running the catamaran and other obstacles few and far between, it didn’t make for much of a distraction from the boredom.

Nico had never been the best conversationalist to begin with, but Percy and Jason could only talk about so much before they just ran out of things to say. Especially since so much was off limits, what with the way neither Nico nor Jason would bring up any topic that might link back to Annabeth.

Percy knew in his head that Jason would never reveal anything he’d promised to keep secret, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. Still, Nico was actually fairly perceptive, something Percy had long ago accepted that he himself was not. Even though he’d thought he and Annabeth played it cool at the sendoff, he must have been wrong.

Which meant that Piper and everyone else probably knew too, and if Percy thought about it too much it made him want to hit something. They’d cleared out space in the main cabin to do a bit of dueling, but when Percy or Jason kept losing their focus on keeping the sailing smooth Nico put a stop to that post-haste.

Percy felt homesick. He’d barely seen his mother since the war ended and he’d been planning on going to spend some time at home, but the gods needed him again. He couldn’t bail on his responsibilities, no matter how badly he wanted to.

He’d wanted to make some blue food, but there was no food coloring in the kitchen (the galley as Nico insistently informed them) and Percy wasn’t much good as a cook anyway. Jason was a fair hand at it, but it was Nico who turned out to be the star in the kitchen. Not so much because of his amazing skill, but because he showed no fear in the face of food preparation.

While Jason would fuss if his pasta weren’t perfectly _al dente_ (Percy had only a vague notion of what that meant, but when Nico would commiserate with Jason about it he felt left out) while Nico would just shrug keep cooking dinner. Jason’s perfectionist streak might have made him the better chef, but Nico was the better cook.

Chalk another point up for Normal Things Percy Wasn’t Good At, though.

Percy knew he was in a foul mood, and he agreed with Jason, it wasn’t like him. He had so many feelings and most of them he couldn’t even tell what they were. He knew this much though: he’d been at war in one way or another ever since he hit puberty and all he’d ever wanted was to just live an ordinary life with the girl he loved.

When things had been bad, in Tartarus but other places too, he’d fantasized about life with Annabeth, about moving to New Rome and living together and maybe even someday having kids… When the war had ended those things seemed as though they might finally be in reach. The pain and fear of world ending crisis after world ending crisis would finally be gone, and Percy could just _rest_.

But they hadn’t even gotten a week of peace before a new conflict came up, and Percy was called back to fight the good fight. And ever since then he’d been feeling more and more uneasy in his own skin. His never really remembered his dreams anymore, but he still woke up in the night breathing hard and sweating from fear.

He was out in the middle of the ocean, and he hadn’t been in the water once since they boarded the boat.

Percy sighed and slumped forward until his forehead rested on the table, its abraded plastic surface rough on his forehead, probably to keep things from sliding off onto the deck. He rolled his head to one side and stared at the gentle wake the boat made as it sailed through the water he kept clear of current.

“Hey,” said Nico, who had just come out of the cabin. He took up residence on the far end of the table from Percy. Jason came out too but didn’t sit, just leaned against the doorframe to the cabin.

With Jason outside the wind became a bit less penetrating and the night’s chill lost some of its bite. All the same, Nico was bundled up in an extremely puffy down jacket and looked like a diminutive and disagreeable snowman.

“Nice moon, tonight,” said Jason. The moon was striking, waxing near full and bright.

“Pretty on the water,” said Nico softly. Moonlight made little diamonds and pearls from the tips of waves and shimmered in great luminous pools on the low rolling surfaces. It was pretty, Percy agreed.

If Percy hadn’t been moping outside then Jason wouldn’t have had cause to comment on the moon, and if Jason hadn’t commented on the moon then Nico wouldn’t have commented on the moon’s reflection, and if they hadn’t been watching the water they would have been caught totally by surprise. So really, as Percy would point out later, his moping had actually saved them.

“What in the name of…” Jason trailed off as a spot far behind them seemed to suck up the moonlight until it pooled into a surface and out of it flew—some sort of giant bird-like seal?

The beast landed on the water, its long neck straining forward as it began swimming toward them. Crouched on its feathered back were three figures, all dressed in clothes as black as the fathomless dark water below them. As the creature swam toward them, one of the figures launched itself into the air and flew over them.

“Jason,” said Percy and Jason nodded. The air was suddenly acrid with the smell of ozone and Percy’s skin prickled with electricity. Jason shot up into the sky with his sword drawn. Beside Percy he could feel the chill of Nico drawing up the shadows around him to pull out his sword too.

“One for each of us?” asked Nico only half-joking. One of the figures on the monster stood up. He was tall with long shaggy hair that whipped behind him. Percy felt the wave coming before the man did anything, and leapt off the back of the boat onto the water.

He could feel the other man’s (demigod? monster?) power and will clash with his in the water around them. They pushed against one another, and Percy pushed harder. The ocean roiled in a frenzy around them and when Nico stumbled Percy grabbed his arm to steady him. For once he didn’t pull away and instead let Percy help him, and Percy had a brief moment of glee before the fight began.

A massive wave rolled up, carrying the figures up off the monster which bellowed and swam away. The long-haired figure rode the crest of the wave like a surfboard back at Percy and the catamaran, his companion crouched behind him.

“Moon,” shouted the man. Percy could barely hear him over the howling wind, but he sounded older than Percy, like an adult. “Take the boat, I got Poseidon’s brat.”

The final figure—the woman Moon—leapt from the wave and landed on the boat’s mast. Her clothes were dark and vaguely military in design.

Overhead Percy could hear the crackling of lightning as the winds buffeted each other and the boat. He was holding the wave off, but it was hard to do that and steady the water around them so Nico could get his footing.

“You’re an asshole, Sea,” shouted Moon over the din as she balanced herself on the mainsail. As she did she unsheathed two long curved knives that gleamed like twin crescent moons.

Points for style at least.

Percy had a brief moment of concern for Nico but Sea was closing in on him (Sea and Moon? What kind of names were those?) and there was no time for anything but uncapping his sword and bracing himself for combat. Sea was moving over the water like he was rollerblading; his stride leisurely and casual, but his actual speed was like a jet ski’s.

It was a really cool trick and Percy was already wondering if he could do the same thing.

“Watch out for the dual-wielder,” Percy yelled back at Nico, and tried to copy Sea’s movement. It was actually pretty easy, the trick was really to let the water move for him while his feet stayed set. When Sea saw this he broke off to arc around the catamaran, and Percy took off after him.

Behind him was a flare of white light that seemed to fill the sea and sky around them, and then half of it winked out replaced by a sucking darkness. Apparently Nico and Moon were having a much flashier fight than he or Jason.

Lightning crackled through the sky and Percy scowled. He wasn’t going to be shown up by _both_ of them.

He started pulling water up so that he was running on a rapidly mounting ocean swell. Sea looked back at him and almost stumbled. He got his footing back quickly though, and shot straight ahead to get maximum distance from Percy.

It didn’t do him any good. Percy was the strongest he’d ever been, even when he’d had the invulnerability of the Styx he hadn’t felt this capable, this firmly established in his power over water. He pulled the ocean up beneath him, until he was riding the water towering over Sea’s head. Sea, who was sprinting now, couldn’t escape Percy.

With a nimble kick Percy _threw_ the wave up and over to crash down on Sea. Sea dove underwater and Percy pushed the crest of the wave down, sucking Sea into an uncontrollable spiral where he was buffeted roughly by opposing swells of water.

A thought whispered in the far recesses of Percy’s anger, a tickle of an impulse that seemed to balloon outward and fill his head. He could crush Sea right now, smash him to a pulp with the power of the ocean. It was what he deserved, and it would be so easy…

Percy shook himself, and wished someone were around so he could crack a bad joke or say something stupid to void the taint of his darker impulses. It’d been part of his coping strategy since he and Annabeth rejoined the crew of the Argo II. If he acted like a goofball maybe no one would notice he was fighting these evil urges.

Problem was, it seemed to have worked a little better than Percy had wanted it to. Now his friends really did think he was a total buffoon.

Percy knew he wasn’t the smartest, especially when compared to someone like Annabeth, or even Nico. But he wasn’t an idiot, and it hurt when people he thought of as friends teased him or rolled their eyes at the things he said.

A horrible scream knocked Percy’s focus off himself and spun him around. That scream had come from Nico.

Percy wasn’t aware of moving so much as the fact that one second he was far away from the boat, the next he was skating around the back of it and flying onto the deck.

Moon had delivered a bloody cut to Nico’s right shoulder. Percy felt like he was almost outside his own body as he flew at Moon, sword extended. It was a mistake—she was fast, faster than he expected and faster than he was.

She caught Riptide between her blades and kicked him in the chest. The air was knocked out of him and he fell back against the side of the boat.

 “You’re not bad, kid,” said Moon as she strode forward, one of her long knives still wet with Nico’s blood. Percy tried to stagger back into a defensive stance, but he was struggling to breath. He hated the feeling of not being able to breathe, it reminded him of drowning. “I always said we should try recruiting some Greeks.”

She raised her un-bloodied knife and Percy realized he was going to die, right there. He’d never get to move to New Rome with Annabeth, never get to see Nico find a boyfriend, never see his mom again, never be able to compete with Jason again, never listen to Grover play his flute, or joke around with Tyson. Never see his dad, or anyone at camp.

Never have to go on another quest to save the world. It was the end…

He was so tired.

Percy closed his eyes, ready for the pain and darkness, and waited.

Even behind his eyelids Percy could tell everything had just gone black. He opened his eyes and saw nothing except the dark. But he heard something, a sound like a thousand snakes hissing words in low whispers. The darkness was cold, and Percy shivered. Was he dead? This didn’t look like an entrance to Hades, nor did it look like the fields of Asphodel or Elysium.

“Huh. Good trick, but play time’s over now,” said Moon somewhere in the darkness. Percy realized he had been swallowed in shadows to shield him. Nico had saved him again.

“Fuck you,” said Nico, and he sounded frightened and in pain and Percy thrashed against the shadows holding him in safety. Nico needed help!

The whispers were growing louder, as though something was coming closer.

“Don’t freak out, you’re just dying a littler earlier than you would otherwise, Di Angelo. Honestly, you should be grateful you don’t have to see what comes next. I’m essentially doing you a favor.”

Percy struggled against the shadows and when he couldn’t move he only struggled harder.

He was drowning again, it reminded him of being helpless and not being able to breathe in dirty water and Percy couldn’t breathe and his lungs hurt and he needed air he needed to breathe he needed to get out and he couldn’t—he couldn’t die not drowning not here _not now_ not drowning not this way _not drowning_ not drowning HE WOULD NOT DIE THIS WAY

In his terror he reached down inside himself so far down his reach went up and out into the ocean

and

he

 _pulled_.

The power flooded into him silk-soft like raindrops falling on flower petals and implacably potent as a swelling tidal wave. It poured down into him and it pooled growing deeper and deeper, and dimly Percy knew he needed to level the power to not drown in it. But it was so much and so heavy, and all he wanted was to put the weight down.

It felt so easy to melt into the power, to become water…

He was the ocean, massive and cold and mysterious with depths unfathomable by man or god. His thoughts were diffusing in the perfect peace of endless water when he heard someone shouting his name.

It sounded like Nico.

 _Nico. Jason._ His friends were in trouble. He moved to swat the bits of flotsam that were assaulting them, and found his hand was stayed from crushing them entirely. One of the tiny things had a presence that felt like an echo of Percy himself, or a warped reflection.

The echo resisted his strength, so Percy bore down until it could resist no longer.

But one of the other specks shone like the moon and Percy could feel her pull against him, the power that controlled the tides, and the speck grew bright in his eyes before it vanished out from his grasp.

He could let go now.

Percy sighed, and the ocean sighed with him. His friends were safe and the struggle was over.

Now he could lose himself.

He was already falling apart, his mind spreading out in fading ripples, nothing but a snowflake falling into the ocean.

He would become water.

As if from nowhere and everywhere Percy felt his father appear, a fierce and protective love that infused Percy and made him swell with pride and affection. A hand was on the back of his neck and everything was falling away from him as he rushed up through the water and suddenly Percy had a body again. Poseidon was cradling him to his chest like he was a baby.

Percy tried to protest and coughed up seawater. Everything ached, from the bones of his toes to the tip of his nose. Poseidon gently laid him down on his side until Percy was finished retching.

“You have nectar?” said Poseidon as he examined Percy. It was less a question than it was an order, and seconds later Percy was being levered up by his father onto a chair while Jason settled a blanket over his legs and Nico carefully tipped some nectar into Percy’s mouth, slowly so Percy could only swallow little mouthfuls. His throat hurt for some reason—in fact his entire body hurt. His bones ached, his muscles burned, his nerves were tingling so he felt hot and cold all over his body, and his brain was throbbing.

Finishing the nectar made the pain subside to a very distant roar, and Percy sighed when Nico took it away.

“What happened?” asked Percy. He noticed that Nico’s shirt had been torn so that his shoulder could be bandaged and his arm put in a sling. “Dude, are you okay?”

Nico laughed, a short bitter noise. “I’m fine, Percy. Or I will be once I have ambrosia. You were the one who…”

Nico turned his head away as if overcome. Jason squeezed his unwounded shoulder and looked at Percy with his big blue eyes full of worry behind his slightly askew glasses.

“We couldn’t find you,” said Jason in a low voice. “One second we were fighting and the next we were underwater and you were nowhere to be seen.”

“I drowned you?” asked Percy absolutely horrified and Jason and Nico protested that they’d been fine, that Percy somehow made them able to breathe water and it didn’t hurt at all.

It didn’t do much to assuage his guilt.

“You bit off a bit more than you could chew, son,” said Poseidon gently. “More than a demigod should be able to, quite honestly.”

Percy didn’t know what that meant, but Jason and Nico were safe and his dad was there, so everything was clearly fine. Content with that knowledge he let exhaustion claim him and finally went limp.

Once he had relaxed, he surveyed his surroundings. The catamaran was ruined. Percy realized they were probably only floating on what remained because of his dad.

“Go gather your things,” said Poseidon to Nico and Jason. It was a clear dismissal.

After Jason and Nico disappeared into the wreckage of the ship Poseidon sat with Percy in a comfortable silence.

“Your friends were worried about you,” said Poseidon, with an odd pause before and emphasis on ‘friends’ that Percy couldn’t ignore.

“Dad?”

“You are… close with those two, the sons of my brothers,” said Poseidon. He sounded almost careful, not a bearing that Percy found familiar on his father.

“Yeah, Jason and Nico are my friends,” said Percy. “Really good friends. Why?”

Poseidon sighed and shook his head. “I look at you three and see how it might have been—how it _could_ be between my brothers and me. Treasure your friendships, Percy. Such bonds are rare in this world, and more valuable than any prize. I wish—“

Overhead the sky crackled and Poseidon’s head whipped around, staring off into the western horizon. He looked furious, and his mood was reflected in the ocean around them. The floating wreckage of the catamaran was in the eye of a storm, perfectly calm amidst a rough and angry sea.

“Dad?” croaked Percy more than a little worried.

“Something else has happened,” said Poseidon and then added under his breath, “Damn you and your pride, Zeus.”

Poseidon gestured and the ocean calmed just as Jason and Nico came back up with their bags. Jason had Percy’s bag slung over his shoulder too.

“Change of plan, boys,” boomed Poseidon. “No more stopover at the Azores, you’re going straight to Delphi.”

“But the Fates,” protested Jason and shut up when Poseidon leveled a flat look at him.

“The Fates will be accounted for, if they haven’t been already. Either way, I’ll not see their toll exacted from you three,” said Poseidon forcefully. “You have to defeat Python as soon as possible! Things are going to happen very quickly now, and for what it’s worth… I’m sorry.” Poseidon put his hand on Percy’s shoulder. “This is not what I would have wished for you, Percy, but I am so, so proud of you.”

“Dad?” asked Percy, feeling afraid. This wasn’t like Poseidon.

“Nerites will take you to Delphi. When you have killed the dragon, you must return home as fast as you are able. Don’t be afraid to fly. Zeus will have more pressing matters than his petty vendettas to attend to.”

“Dad, what’s going on?” Percy was seriously worried now. He’d never seen Poseidon like this before, not even in the thick of the war.

“Do not travel by shadow unless you must,” said Poseidon, looking at Nico. “There will be things waiting for you in the dark that you are not prepared for, monsters with sharper teeth that have not been seen in thousands of years.”

Nico didn’t look convinced and Poseidon frowned. “Your father only travels to and from Olympus with the Helm of Darkness these days, and he is a god. If you care for your friends—if you truly care for my son—then you will avoid the shadows at all cost from now on.”

Percy hoped he wasn’t as a red-faced as Nico, but the knowing look Poseidon cast him fast dashed his hopes.

“It is good you three are companions, it gives me hope to see the bond between you. I wish that…” Poseidon trailed off and set his mouth in a hard line. “I must go.”

One moment he was there, the next he was gone and the boat sagged against the water in a way that told Percy sinking was imminent.

“Uh, Percy?” asked Jason and Percy focused on the boat not sinking and blinked in surprise when it was easy—he was exhausted but the weight now was almost nothing.

And now that he was using his powers, he could feel something else.

“Show yourself,” he said and the air shimmered beside the boat. It revealed a chariot, the body of which was a shell easily able to contain a mid-sized sedan. The shell was open, and the interior looked like an oddly shaped tour bus, possibly one that belonged to a very famous up and coming pop star.

Lounging on a couch amidst the tastefully appointed accents and modern artwork was a boy. The boy was beautiful, with seductively rumpled hair the color of dark honey, and soft, sleepy eyes. He was also not wearing much, just a silken snow-white _chlamys_ that provided provocatively little in the way of protection. He looked about the same age as Nico, although far less tired and wan, and he had a phone in his hand that had clearly just been commanding his focus.

“So forceful,” he said. His voice was high but still sweet and melodious. It would have relaxed Percy if he hadn’t heard an undercurrent of leering that was somewhat unsettling. “Just like your father used to be, though you’re not quite as handsome. Yet.”

Percy coughed and cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks, and you are?”

The boy raised an eyebrow. “Nerites. Which I could have sworn Poseidon just told you. Now are you going to get on or not?”

They boarded the chariot, which seemed to be more spacious than it appeared, like it was bigger on the inside. Big enough for a couch and love seat along with a kitchenette. Percy settled back into the pillows with a pained sigh of relief. He felt like his body had been taken apart and sloppily reassembled.

“Ugh, it’s totally cramped in here now,” said Nerites with disgust. The chariot swelled out and up as its shell closed shut. The loveseat stretched into a large couch as the ceiling stretch up and around them. It looked less like they were in a shell than an oddly shaped room. “Better.”

Nerites was now reclining on a couch, sipping from a bottle of over-priced, trendy looking kombucha with a long straw. His _chlamys_ had transformed into a plain white t-shirt, and dark, expensive-looking, blue jeans. Nerites’s feet were still bare and he looked soft, like he was ready for bed. Percy felt taught, like a string ready—needing—to be plucked.

Percy had a lot going on in his head all of a sudden, and it wasn’t very comfortable.

“Why don’t you come sit by me, Perseus,” said Nerites, and Percy was standing up before he’d even thought about it.

Nico grabbed him by the wrist, though and pulled Percy back. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” asked Percy and realized Nico was speaking to—and glaring at—Nerites.

“Staking your claim, son of Hades?” said Nerites archly and Nico’s grip on Percy’s wrist disappeared, which was the only thing keeping Percy from sliding onto Nerites' couch, Nerites settling his legs in Percy’s lap. Nerites smiled at him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” said Percy, his voice low and thick in his throat.

“Let him go,” said Nico and Jason had his hand on his sword. Percy frowned, one hand on Nerites' thigh. Why was everyone getting so upset?

“Let him go? I’m not doing anything to him,” said Nerites, but he turned to look at Percy searchingly. Then he scowled.

“Oh, that bitch did _not_ …” Nerites trailed off, sighed, and tapped Percy on the forehead. Percy’s felt like his head was being squeezed through the eye of a needle Looney Toons style while being dunked in ice water.

Suddenly he became aware, with an almost passive sense of surprise, that Nerites was effectively sitting in his lap. And while it wasn’t totally unpleasant Percy definitely had a girlfriend, and that meant it was totally uncool.

“Freaking Aphrodite,” said Nerites as he let Percy up. “I hate her. She totally has it out for your dad, too.”

“What? Why? And what just happened?” asked Percy. “What did you do to me?”

“It’s a long story and literally ancient history, but whatever,” said Nerites, who was looking a little flustered. “Basically, Aphrodite’s left her little fingerprints all over you and after what she did to your dad and me… well, we got a little feedback, you got a little loopy, whatever. It’s done, shouldn’t happen again.”

Nerites sounded flippant, but brittle. Percy wished he knew who the guy was, some sort of minor god, maybe? Who also had a history with Percy’s dad and Aphrodite?

“Hey,” said Jason in a low voice to Percy, hovering like he wasn’t sure how close he could get. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, no, I’m fine,” said Percy and slumped into a chair. He could feel the ocean moving around them. They were making a beeline for the Mediterranean and judging by their speed they’d be at the Pillars of Hercules in a few hours.

“If you guys want to watch a movie or something let me know,” said Nerites, pulling out his phone and started tapping away, his thumbs moving almost inhumanly fast. “There are sodas in the fridge and snacks in the cabinets.”

He was clearly dismissing them, and Percy was still reeling a bit from everything that had happened. Jason was keeping close to him, like an over-protective mother hen. It was a testament to Percy’s exhaustion that he didn’t say anything, and even found it comforting.

Annabeth had always been a rock for Percy to lean on, but she was strong in different ways than he was. Jason was strong like Percy, a bulwark he could take shelter behind. Percy let himself relax.

Nico pressed a cool can into his hands and told him to drink. Percy did, and started to feel a little better as the sugar hit his system. They settled in to wait.

“So are we going to get an explanation for what happened tonight?” asked Percy.

Nerites didn’t look up from his phone. “Probably not. Your father and his brothers can be assholes like that. I mean _I_ didn’t even get an explanation, just orders to show up and where to go after.”

“Wait, they knew we were going to be attacked?” asked Percy.

“Well, yeah,” said Nerites a little scornfully. “Wasn’t that your whole plan?”

“Our plan was to provide a distraction for monsters, not to battle other demigods,” snapped Nico.

“So they were demigods?” asked Percy, his heart sinking. More kids like Ethan Nakamura was the last thing Percy wanted. “Who are their parents? Maybe we can talk to them, negotiate, let them know both camps are doing the amnesty thing.”

Suddenly Nico wasn’t look at him or Jason. “That... might be difficult.”

“Don’t go revealing any state secrets now,” said Nerites in a low voice and Nico’s jaw closed with an audible click.

Percy opened his mouth to demand to know more but Jason nudged his elbow and gave a little shake of his head. Percy was tired enough that he subsided. They could ask Nico what he meant later.

The lull in the conversation lasted for a while. Nico dozed off at one point and Jason had started yawning pretty regularly. Percy felt beat, literally and figuratively, but strangely not very sleepy.

“So, how do you know my dad?” asked Percy finally and Nico made a choking noise as he rocketed from semi-conscious to fully aware. Nerites looked up at Percy with an unreadable look on his face. Then he turned back to his smartphone.

“We had a fling like a couple thousand years ago or so. No big deal.” Now Percy was the one making involuntary strangled sounds.

“What?” he gasped. Nerites cocked his head to the side.

“You really don’t know, do you?” asked Nerites. “What about you two?”

“Jason grew up Roman, he wouldn’t know,” said Nico quietly, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“But you do,” said Nerites looking at Nico for the first time with interest. “A son of Hades is more familiar with me than a son of Poseidon. That’s a first.”

Percy was still processing the fact that his father had a thing for pretty young boys, even if they were gods. Nerites looked barely older than Nico. Something about that fact made Percy feel uncomfortable, and more than a little protective.

 “Wait—is that why you tried to… with me?” said Percy and Nerites threw his phone down.

“No! I told you, that was because of Aphrodite,” snapped Nerites. “Fine, since apparently you just _have_ to hear the story. Poseidon and I were in love, and Aphrodite wanted me for herself. I refused to move to Olympus and be another of her boy-toys, so she literally stole the love your father and I had for each other and anthropomorphized it into a playmate for her son. And then she turned me into a _clam_. Lucky for me, your father is an honorable god, so even with no love between us he still rescued me from the curse.”

Nerites turned his head away. “Sons of Poseidon… you remind me of what I used to have. It’s a pale reflection, like a memory just out of recall, but it’s all I have now.”

“Oh,” said Percy.

“That sounds horrible,” said Jason and Nerites sniffled.

“Yeah, it’s whatever. Anyway, Aphrodite took away love from me, and she’s marked Percy, so we were basically like magnets—negative charge meets positive. I didn’t do it intentionally.”

“I’m sorry,” said Percy. Is that why people were always falling in love with him? It made more sense than any other theory he’d come up. He’d thought when Aphrodite made her prediction it was just his luck, but maybe she’d been more proactive than he’d thought.

“It’s fine, I’m over it,” said Nerites. He clearly wasn’t, but no one called him on it.

A silence fell over them that was only mostly uncomfortable, and then Percy realized something. “Wait, Aphrodite turned you into a clam? Does that mean we’re inside you right now?”

The other three stared at him and then Jason barked out a laugh before he clapped his hand over his mouth.

“Seriously?” asked Nerites. He turned to Nico. “Is he serious?”

“It’s part of his charm,” said Nico, a little smile playing around his lips. It wasn’t mocking, though, and Percy grinned at Nico, and the smile grew a little bigger.

“Don’t be gross, Perseus, it’s not attractive,” said Nerites but now he also looked amused.

“Maybe I’m just not your type,” said Percy to Nerites, but he looked teasingly at Nico. Nico ducked his head.

“Oh, no, you’re _definitely_ my type,” said Nerites with a lingering appreciative look. It made Percy feel more than a little naked and he coughed and crossed his legs.

“Biting off more than you can chew, Jackson?” said Jason as he leaned back on the other arm of their couch, knees spread like an invitation. Percy glared at him.

“Is that an offer, son of Zeus?” asked Nerites archly, and then it was Jason who was snapping his legs shut with a red face and Percy snickering at him. Jason flipped Percy off. “Pity. Well if either of you change your minds, let me know.”

“They both have girlfriends,” said Nico in an odd voice. Percy worried they were making him uncomfortable.

“So?” asked Nerites. He opened his hand, and his phone floated back up into it. “Poseidon was betrothed to my sister when we met.”

“Wait a minute—Amphitrite is your sister?” asked a scandalized Percy.

“You can’t honestly tell me you care,” scoffed Nerites. “I know how much she hates Poseidon’s demigod children. But she’s always been a bitch like that. I think it’s because she knows that if Aphrodite hadn’t cursed me and stolen our love then Poseidon would have taken _me_ as his consort.”

Percy didn’t like Amphitrite but he understood that it had to be difficult to be married to a philandering husband. At least Poseidon wasn’t like his brother, the way Zeus treated Hera was pretty horrible in Percy’s opinion, parading all his conquests in front of her. It didn’t excuse Hera’s actions, but it made her motivations understandable.

Still, stealing your sister’s boyfriend? That seemed pretty sketchy. And Percy’s dad being married to an extremely pretty teenage boy? That didn’t even bear thinking about. Also…

“That would have made you my step-father!” Percy exclaimed.

Nerites gave Percy a long measuring look and then twitched as something else caught his attention. Jason and Nico did a poor job of hiding their snickers. “We need to surface for a moment, I have to check in with Hercules before we go any further.”

“Oh, that guy,” muttered Jason. “What a dick.”

“I know, right?” said Nerites, but his tone said something very different from Jason’s. Percy tried not to die laughing at the look on Jason’s face. Nerites gave him a quelling look.

“Sorry,” choked out Percy. Nerites rolled his eyes and then vanished down through the cushions and floor.

“Whoa,” said Jason. The three of them were silent for a moment.

“Right?” said Percy finally. A headache was building behind his eyes, and Percy rubbed his right temple. “Not how I was expecting this night to go.”

“I think we’d be worried if it was,” said Nico dryly. Percy laughed half-heartedly, but now that Nerites was gone and the conversation had died his energy was falling fast. Also his body had begun to ache in a familiar way that told Percy he’d be lucky if he weren’t stiff as board in the morning.

He was too young to have war wounds aching when he woke up. He shuddered to think of what his mornings would be like if he couldn’t eat ambrosia to heal his injuries.

“Dude, you should get some sleep,” said Jason quietly. “Nico and I have been taking catnaps but you’ve been awake this whole time.”

“I’m fine,” said Percy.

“No you’re not,” said Jason. “Come on, lie down.” Jason stood up and picked up a couple pillows for his end of the couch. Percy’s pride was telling him not to give in, but everything else about him was crying out for a nap.

“Maybe just for a few minutes,” said Percy and curled up on his side. He tried not to look like lying down felt as good as it did. A second later a blanket was being draped over him and he looked up at Jason. “Thanks, bro.”

“Sure thing,” said Jason quietly. Percy closed his eyes and heard Nico and Jason murmuring to each other as if from a great distant. In no time at all he was fast asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Camp Half Blood

Earlier that day

_There is no shame in surrender. The weak will die first, but they do not have to die alone_

_Survival is not always the best option_

Piper

Having two gods in residence at camp had certainly made things… lively.

Everyone in the Apollo cabin was head over heels that they got to spend so much time with their father (and it was only kind of weird that Apollo barely looked older than his children). He spent much more time with the campers than Mr. D ever did, and his almost literally sunny demeanor meant that every camper wanted to be his friend.

At first it had been fine, but a couple days ago Apollo had started playing favorites. Piper supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. After all, Apollo was a god and what was a god without worshippers? Maybe that was why Mr. D held himself apart from the campers.

Whatever the reasons for their behavior, the gods did what they did and then demigods cleaned up the mess. This time the mess was a knock down dragout fight between the Ares cabin and the Hermes cabin. Hermes’s kids had a numbers advantage, but the Ares kids were born brawlers.

Piper had done a lot of shouting to help break it up, while Apollo, who had caused the fracas, didn’t lift a hand to help sort it out.  It didn’t seem fair, but Piper had long ago gotten over the idea of life being fair. Life was never fair, not to mortals at least. Theirs was just the luck of the draw.

If life were fair then Leo would still be alive.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts Piper picked up her pace. She was nearly late for the morning counselor meeting. They’d met daily since Gaea’s defeat, and it was unlikely they’d stop any time soon.

The meetings hadn’t quite been the same since Jason, Percy, and Nico had left. She and Annabeth sat together every time. It wasn’t that Piper disliked the other counselors, but she and Annabeth had endured together and fought side-by-side. She felt close with Annabeth in a way that she rarely did with other girls.  Hazel was sweet but she was young, and also currently at Camp Jupiter. Annabeth was Piper’s peer, and their boyfriends were even cut from the same cloth.

Piper ducked into the Big House and was relieved to see that she wasn’t the only one running a little late, because the only people in the room were Chiron, Lou Ellen, and Pollux. Chiron was talking to Pollux, who looked pretty upset. Lou Ellen nodded to Piper.

“What’s going on?” asked Piper as she sat next to Lou Ellen. The other girl seemed surprised to see Piper sit next to her.

“Pollux got word that his mom is sick.”

“Oh no, that’s horrible,” said Piper and then in a lower voice, “Is it serious?”

“Yeah, he wants permission to go to her,” said Lou Ellen. “But it’s still ‘all hands on deck’ here, you know? Lots of displaced monsters still in the area.”

“Where does his mom live?”

“Manhattan. She’s at Beth Israel now. They don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

There was the noise of a group of people approaching and a second later Apollo came in dragging most of the other counselors along in his wake, hanging on his every word.

“Everyone if you could please find your seats,” said Chiron in a clipped tone, and once everyone noticed Pollux’s tear streaked face people quietly and quickly sat down.

Annabeth sat down next to Piper and they smiled at each other before Chiron began speaking.

Arranging for Pollux to visit his mother was the last item of business. Pollux told them his mother had collapsed late last night and was in intensive care. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone.

Mr. D’s absence had become somewhat conspicuous by the time Pollux finished speaking. Piper was ready for Chiron to dismiss the meeting when Apollo spoke up.

“How about I go with Pollux to visit his mom? I’ve seen pretty much every disease and injury a mortal can possibly have. I’d be happy to talk to your mom’s doctors.”

Pollux looked like a starving man being offered an all you can eat buffet. But Chiron was clearly hesitant.

“It might not be wise, Lord Apollo,” he said after a moment.

“So I take an escort,” Apollo said easily. “If I’m not safe with three demigods in the heart of Olympus’s territory than I’m definitely not safe for a trip cross country.”

Chiron looked as though he wanted to debate this point, but one glance at Pollux and he sighed.

“Very well, I shall arrange an escort. If there are any volunteers—“

Chiron barely got the words out of his mouth when every counselor, including Clovis who was typically asleep by the end of these meetings, raised their hand.

 

* * *

 

Piper had never spent much time with Clarisse and never really wanted to. Rumor had it that she used to be an outright bully before growing into the bloodthirsty but honorable young warrior she was now. And Piper could totally see the shadow of a bully in her behavior. But if she couldn’t have Jason along as the muscle of a questing trio then Clarisse was an excellent substitute.

While Clarisse was definitely the muscle, it was Piper’s job to make sure their visit went smoothly. Pollux had been pale and drawn looking the entire ride into the city, slumped into the seat belt, his face mushed against the window.

Piper had done her best to comfort Pollux, but she was well aware the only thing that would make him feel better was for his mom to get better. The only thing she could offer was her support.

Apollo had found a radio station playing mild classical music, mostly piano, and that had eased a bit of the awkward silence in the car. Clarisse wasn’t much for conversation and didn’t bother to try, so it was mostly Piper and Apollo. Piper had a better relationship with her mother than most demigods with their parents, but being so informal with another Olympian had been surprisingly easy.

Also, the fact that Apollo didn’t look much older than Jason and was about as goofy as Leo (it still hurt it still hurt) or Percy made it easier to forget he was actually a god. Well, except for how he was still entirely full of himself. The arrogance of gods was a very particular thing and easily recognizable to Piper by now.

When they got the hospital it took them very little time to find and gain access to Pollux’s mother, mostly because Piper was standing just behind Pollux the entire time tacking on polite ‘pleases’ to every request. Just a little charmspeak was enough to get them checked in with minimum questions and en route in no time at all.

Apollo was walking ahead with Pollux while Piper and Clarisse trailing behind. Clarisse’s eyes were constantly moving, taking in their surroundings and every person they passed by.

“Anything wrong?” asked Piper.

“Nothing I can see,” said Clarisse. So she felt something was off.

“What about what you can’t see?”

Clarisse snorted. “If I can’t see it then how the hell should I know?”

 “Fair point,” said Piper easily, knowing that a refusal to rise to Clarisse’s bait was the easiest way to get her back. Sure enough Clarisse scowled at her and started speed walking up to Apollo and Pollux.

Pollux’s mother had his blond hair, or rather he had hers Piper supposed. Her eyes were bright blue like his were purple, although hers were foggy with the effects of pain medication.

The fog cleared up somewhat when Pollux approached her. She smiled at him as he tearfully took her hand and started talking to her. Piper and Clarisse hung back, wanting to give as much privacy as possible. The other bed in the room was empty, and Piper was debating ducking behind its curtain when Pollux’s mother noticed them.

 “Oh! You brought your friends,” she said, and did a poor job of hiding her discomfort with that fact. “Is… is your father here?”

“No, dad stayed at camp, but Lord Apollo offered to come and help,” said Pollux excitedly. Apollo grinned and waved at Pollux’s mother who stared at the god in shock.

“Hello, ma’am, just let me have a looksee,” said Apollo as he came around the bed. “Excuse me, Pollux.”

Pollux backed away from his mom and Piper went to rub his back. He smiled weakly at her.

“Oh, I’m sure this isn’t necessary,” protested Pollux’s mother.

“Hey, I may not have my powers but I can still work some mojo,” said Apollo, and now Pollux’s mother was smiling at him with relief.

“Well, if you’re certain,” she said.

“I am. So, what do we have—“ Apollo began and stopped.

In one viciously quick movement Pollux’s mother pulled a wicked looking knife from the sheets and lunged for Apollo’s throat.

Apollo didn’t have his powers, but he was still a god, and a warrior with centuries of combat experience. He met Pollux’s mother as she came at him and disabled her, the knife clattering to the floor. Its blade was obsidian and somehow darker than black, like it sucked in light and annihilated it. In contrast the handle was made from old yellowed bone.

“Mom!” cried out Pollux but Clarisse had an iron grip on his shoulder.

“Who are you?” demanded Apollo as he slammed Pollux’s mother’s head into the hospital bed. “Reveal yourself!”

She just laughed, a chillingly gleeful laugh that made Piper’s skin crawl. “Sure thing, Sun God.”

Piper had seen a great many unsavory sights in her life. What happened next though was worse than anything that had come before. She would remember for the rest of her life the way that Pollux’s mother’s skin seemed to fling itself off her body, the sticky wet sound of bloody skin grabbing ahold of Apollo like leeches. The woman revealed underneath the skin was pretty, her eyes dark and sadistic, her skin and hair wet with blood.

Apollo stumbled backwards as the skin began to grow, covering him like a cocoon. Clarisse shoved past Piper, and she seemed to almost fly through the air at the woman, her blade extended. But in mid-air she was slammed to the side so hard she cracked huge lines the window.

“A little sloppy, but I guess you can’t complain if you lay a trap for deer and instead catch a tiger.” A young man, a boy really, walked into the room with one hand outstretched. A twitch of his fingers made Clarisse flip upside down and pressed her against the window, like a fly being smashed on a window shield in slow motion.

“ _Stop!_ ” shouted Piper and both strangers froze. Clarisse was no longer pinned to the window and tumbled down. Pollux was staring at Apollo as the god struggled with his mother’s skin.

“Wow, you’re pretty good.” Piper whirled around to see a pale skinned girl—no, a young woman—standing behind her. She had curly red hair and her bright but vacant smile echoed emptily in her large, glossy eyes. She tilted her head to one side and then lunged, swinging a switchblade at Piper’s face. Piper moved back to give herself space and bring up her dagger, but stumbled into a still stunned Pollux.

The girl laughed and moved in to stab Piper when Clarisse body-checked her like a truck.

“Get it together you two,” Clarisse snapped, her eyes lit up with the prospect of imminent violence. The two strangers were blinking and shaking their heads. Piper’s charmspeak command was wearing off, but Apollo had just finished freeing himself from his skin-cocoon. “Piper, get them out of here!”

Piper helped Apollo to his feet, his hands and clothes were sticky with blood, and his eyes blazed like the sun. “Come on.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” said the boy with shining eyes. “Trickster, get us a way out, this won’t go unnoticed. Death, keep the others off my back, the god is mine.”

“One escape route coming right up!” chirped the red-haired girl—from the hallway outside the room. Piper hadn’t even seen her get up from Clarisse’s attack, let alone sneak out of the room.

With a distant horror she wondered where the hospital personnel were. No one had come by, and they weren’t exactly being quiet.

“You’re so greedy, Magic,” said Death, licking blood from her lips. “Let’s dance, little girl.”

Clarisse laughed with bloody delight when a low keening noise filled the room. Piper turned to see Pollux shaking, his face white and his purple eyes bloodshot and tear-filled.

Pollux’s keening grew louder and Piper began to feel strange. The world ran like hot wax and she couldn’t keep her balance.

Piper fell to the floor and then clung to it because everything was upside down and if she didn’t hold on to the floor she’d fall to the ceiling. Everything was full of sound and colors with no names and Piper was laughing in raw terror. Hands began to pull at her and she fought them desperately while trying not to let go of the floor. She couldn’t stop laughing.

Then reality snapped back into focus like an overextended rubber band. Piper gasped from the shock of it.

“Silly sausage,” said Trickster. “Such madness.”

She dropped the fire extinguisher she’d used to bash Pollux into insensibility on his stomach. He didn’t even grunt when it hit, one of his eyes was full of blood and both were utterly unfocused. “So ineffective.”

“ _Shut up,_ ” said Piper with as much force as she could.

Trickster twitched, like a puppet whose strings were jerked. Then she smiled her empty smile at Piper.

“Silence isn’t golden,” she said. “It’s iron, and it rusts. _You can’t control me_.”

Piper got to her feet. Pollux was on the ground, his eyes open but glazed over with dazed pain. Clarisse was grappling with Death, and Apollo was…

Piper stared for a second in shock. Apollo was suspended in the air, legs and arms akimbo forming an X out of his body, and surrounded by a glowing sphere that faded in and out of focus. The sphere was within a pyramid and the pyramid was within a cube. Letters and symbols Piper didn’t recognize lined the air, glowing with unearthly light. Magic was drawing them with a knife, like he was cutting little lines in the fabric of existence.

Apollo screamed inside the sphere but no sound came out.

“ _STOP IT_ ,” Piper yelled at Magic. He staggered like he’d been shoved, and looked confused. A soft, fleshy sound made Piper turn and roll just in time to avoid a wolf bite.

Wait, where did a wolf come from?

“Nom, nom, nom,” said the wolf with Trickster’s voice. So she was a shapeshifter; that was just great.

Piper rolled to her feet. In one smooth movement she grabbed a chair and whirled around just in time to smack Trickster. She yelped and hit the wall, but then shimmered from a wolf down into a viper.

Piper jumped up onto a table. The viper ignored her and went straight for Clarisse. She couldn’t stop Trickster directly; the woman could resist her voice. But the others were more susceptible.

“ _That snake is trying to kill you,”_ yelled Piper with as much power as she could manage. The reaction was near instantaneous, Death and Clarisse switched their attention in unison to Trickster and attacked almost as one.

But Trickster was fast too and one second where there had been a viper there was a massive polar bear that shrugged off Death gently but batted Clarisse into the wall with such force she didn’t get back up.

“I’m going to kill you,” said the bear in Trickster’s surreally girlish voice. “Your bones will crack and pick your meat from my teeth.”

“Worse than you have tried,” taunted Piper with a bit more bravado than she felt. This woman was seriously creepy. “No one’s managed it yet.”

“That’s okay, I’m very lucky,” said Trickster lumbering closer. “Things always go my way. You’ll see when you die, and you’ll die when you see.”

Death had come back to her senses and was looking at Piper with barely controlled rage. Clarisse and Pollux were down and Apollo was trapped and Piper was facing two powerful and unknown opponents.

The odds weren’t good. The odds also didn’t matter. With a silent apology to Jason she shifted her grip on her dagger and prepared to charge, screaming charm speak. If she could take out Trickster then she could charm the other two into submission.

Then Magic cried out a word that sounded more like a gong than a human voice, and the room filled with light. The symbols on the shapes that Apollo had been suspended in seemed to bleed onto his skin like tattoos before sinking down into his bones. His entire skeleton was illuminated as this happened, and then it finished.

“Okay, we’re good to go, let’s do it,” said Magic, breathing hard. He steadied himself on the bed frame.

“First we kill this bitch, “growled Death and suddenly Piper couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand, her muscles felt like they were literally on fire. She would have to push through the pain. Piper gripped her dagger more firmly even though it felt like her bones were breaking.

She would not fall.

“NO!” shouted Magic. “We need to leave now! They’re coming!”

“Shit,” said Death and suddenly Piper could breathe again, although the unbearable pain was slow to fade and made it difficult to stand. “Tricks, we can kill her later.”

“I am an unyielding apocalypse,” said Trickster, pawing the floor. “You promised, and a promise is forever.”

The bear melted back into a wide eyed young woman. Trickster reached into a pocket and pulled out—an ear of corn?

“All aboard!” shouted Trickster and tossed the corn to Death. In one smooth motion Death caught the corn, slapped it against the wall, and then stabbed it with her bloody knife. The corn kernels swelled and then exploded, popping with furious force until the room was filled with popped corn that continued to pop. And then out of the corn came darkness, came shadows that grew until they swept the room. Piper felt like she was standing under a freezing waterfall, and she heard voices whispering horrible things as if from a great distance.

Darkness shrouded the room and an unearthly hush came over the world. Then the darkness vanished leaving only scattered piles of popcorn.

Apollo and their attackers were gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all. so to make a long story short life has become busy for my beta reader and we agreed that handling this monster of a fic was too much. so I have the rest of the fic prepared and good to go, but it's not been checked for canonical accuracy, just my own editing and edits from a friend who doesn't know the fandom. so if you could leave a comment and let me know if you want me to  
> 1\. find a new beta and go through that process before posting  
> 2\. just post the rest of the fic  
> 3\. are willing to beta the rest of this ~100k word count fic  
> 4\. an idea you have that I didn't list  
> thank you!

Olympus -- The Throne Room

_Gods cannot be killed, but they can be diminished_

_There are some fates worse than death_

Interlude

“It is no coincidence that our sons were attacked at the same moment Apollo was abducted!” Poseidon exclaimed. “When will you open your eyes, Brother?”

“You might as well ask the sun to rise in the west, Poseidon,” said Hades with a mocking sneer. “Zeus is constitutionally incapable of being wrong.”

“And yet now I wonder if I was wrong to welcome you back to Olympus,” rumbled Zeus as only a god of thunder could.

The news of Apollo’s capture had spread through Olympus as fast as Hermes could carry it. The remaining Olympians had immediately gathered on their thrones to discuss their options.

And they had been arguing ever since.

“Enough!” All three gods started as Hera slammed her hand on her throne with a brilliant burst of light and sound. “We have no time for your squabbling. We must decide our course of action.”

“Our course of action?” said Athena. “Apollo has been taken, and we cannot find him. His godly essence resides here, sealed in his throne, but his physical vessel is vulnerable. There are only two options before us: hope we can recover Apollo before his power can be siphoned away, or—”

“You will not finish that sentence,” said Artemis. Her voice was quiet, but her anger was very nearly a physical presence in the room, like a knife pressed against the throat.

“It might be the only course that will actually save him,” said Athena almost gently.

“No,” said Artemis. “Not that. Just give me leave to hunt and I will bring him back, along with the heads of our enemies.”

“Without knowing who our ‘enemy’ even is?” sneered Ares. “I thought you were a cunning hunter, Sister, not a fool.”

“We know who the enemy is,” said Zeus.

“No, we are aware of who you _think_ the enemy is,” said Aphrodite, although she didn’t look like she was even paying attention to anything other than her cuticles. “One is not necessarily the other.”

“Especially when you consider that our treaty with Mount Meru remains inviolate, and the skies over the Silver Spire are still empty,” added Poseidon. “You refuse to consider the alternative because it frightens you, Zeus.”

“There is no being, man, monster, or god, who frightens me,” said Zeus, the anger in his eyes gleamed like lightning.

“Not even the God of the Covenant?” asked Hades snidely, and Zeus turned a look on him that would have incinerated a mortal.

“No need to fear that one,” rumbled Hephaestus. “To undo the seal on his tomb you would have to unravel the nature of Fate itself, not to mention getting past the guardian.”

“That degenerate?” said Demeter with a sniff. “It’s a miracle he hasn’t been defeated already.”

“Say what you will about Gilgamesh, but he has kept the Deeper Well safe for nearly five thousand years,” said Athena. “Back to the matter at hand, I believe we are asking the wrong questions, or at least in the wrong order. If we accept that Apollo has been taken by forces as yet unknown, we must ask ourselves: why?”

“To gain access to his power, obviously,” said Ares and Athena stared at him coldly.

“Yes, of course, but to _what purpose?_ What does one need the power of a god for?”

“You clearly have an idea already so stop being so tedious and just spit it out,” said Aphrodite, looking beyond bored. "I have epic romances I could be cultivating."

“There are only three ends that I can see requiring the power of a god,” said Athena, casting a sour glance at Aphrodite. “To put it simply: creation, resurrection, or apotheosis.”

“There are many other purposes one could put such power to,” said Hermes.

“But none that would not be equally served or in many cases better served by another source, particularly when the degree of difficulty is factored in. Whoever has taken Apollo is still cautious of our strength, or they would have been brazen, and not bidden their time attempting to place agents.”

“Explain,” said Zeus, sounding calmer now. “What agents?”

 “Isn’t it obvious, Father?” asked Athena. Normally, this would be a very poor choice for a rhetorical framing device to use on the King of Olympus. Luckily for Athena, Zeus frequently indulged his favored daughter.

Especially when she was in the process of gifting him some manner of advantage.

“They were ill-prepared to capture Apollo, though capable enough to pull it off before Dionysus could intervene. I imagine their plan was for the skinwalker to replace Dionysus’ boy just as she did the boy’s mother. This would have granted them intimate access to our plans, and all the information they need for whatever purpose they have.”

There was a crunching sound from Dionysus’s throne, then a little pop as the can was replaced.

“Then the other attack was coordinated to…” said Hermes.

“Take our focus. After all, who would dare confront us in our own backyard? We expected an attack on the three at sea. That is why they were chosen. Our enemies played upon our expectations, which in turn means they saw through our ruse.”

“Or we simply dangled such attractive bait they couldn’t resist,” Ares leered.

“Possibly,” conceded Athena. “It is not necessarily a zero-sum game. Either way they used the opportunity to attempt their own subterfuge. From a strategic standpoint we thwarted a potential mole, but also lost a significantly valuable asset.”

“Pretty sure the only important bit of him is still up here,” said Ares and didn’t even flinch at the look Artemis sent him. “That’s the brass tacks of it, so let’s get down to them. Do we take the risk and hunt him down, or just cut the knot and replace him.”

Artemis had an arrow drawn and notched before even Hermes could react. Ares almost jumped out of his chair, which made Athena burst out in brief laughter.

“Artemis!” bellowed Zeus.

“We will _not_ replace Apollo,” she said through gritted teeth.

“They might let him go if they can no longer steal his power,” said Hermes, eyeing the arrowhead that even though she was upset enough to draw on Ares in the throne room did not tremble in the slightest. “Or make the mistake of killing him, in which case he’ll reincarnate and solve all our problems.”

Everyone else was eyeing the arrowhead as well, except for Aphrodite, who was reading a magazine. Zeus drew in another deep breath to start shouting again.

“Actually, I agree with Artemis,” interjected Hades casually as though a fight wasn’t about to break out in front of him. “We should rescue Apollo, even if we were prepared to abandon him his capture is an insult we cannot allow to go unpunished. Better to reclaim him and crush our enemies in one fell swoop.”

“This is not a democracy—Artemis put that damn bow DOWN!” shouted Zeus and Olympus shook, although each of the thrones remained somehow fixed in space as if everything else lacked some essential substance and only the thrones were truly real.

Artemis eased the arrow back and lowered her bow, but not completely. Ares watched her warily.

“We shall not abandon one of our own,” said Zeus, his voice soft with absolute authority. “Artemis, find your brother. Every resource will be at your disposal. We shall teach our enemies—whoever they may be—what it means to challenge Olympus.”

“Thank you, Father,” said Artemis with a nod of her head. She vanished into a column of moonlight.

“She won’t find him,” said Athena, “not in time.”

“And what would you have us do?” demanded Poseidon.

“She’s just setting up for another one of her tidbits of wisdom,” said Aphrodite, without looking up from her magazine.

“At least, I’m contributing,” snapped Athena.

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Aphrodite punctuating her words with a delicate yawn. “I apologize. Absolutely riveting, please go on.”

After casting a venomous look at Aphrodite, Athena continued. “Earlier Ares said we should “cut the knot” and something occurred to me. It is the channel between Apollo and his power that concerns us, yes? And the only way to sever that connection is re-anchor his power.”

“We know all of this, speak faster,” snapped Hera.

“Fine,” said Athena, clearly fed up. “In this case we do not need to cut the knot to cut the knot, just place a child of Apollo on his throne and keep them there until we recover him. Any attempt to pull Apollo’s power to his body we can derail by applying equal pressure in reverse through their divine blood.”

The rest of the gods considered this.

“You would have us grant the power of a god to a demigod, but not give them godhood,” said Hera. “They would become a living god. You know this is forbidden, you know _why_ this is forbidden, and yet you still bring us this madness.”

“The power would not be transferred, it would only be anchored by the sliver of Apollo’s divinity in his child,” said Demeter thoughtfully. “They would have to stay on the throne for the duration, if they were spied outside of Olympus the Trimurti might think we are attempting to subvert the boundaries of the treaty.”

“They wouldn’t be able to move in any case,” said Hermes. “The power would bind them to the throne as a counter-weight to Apollo. It is, however, extremely unlikely they would survive their blood’s transformation to Ichor. The moment they step down from the throne to restore Apollo they will surely die, especially if we do not retrieve Apollo soon.”

“The same’s true for half those damn quests they go on,” said Ares. “This is what half-bloods are for. Or are we pretending that our habit of siring them is all about love and affection?”

“Some of us actually _do_ love our children,” said Poseidon.

“You think I don’t?” said Ares. “But I also remember what they are: mortal.”

“Your plan is sound, Athena,” said Zeus, cutting off further conversation. “We shall implement it directly. Dionysus, inform Chiron and begin the process of selecting Apollo’s most vital and viable children.”

“Yeah, sure, find a kid and talk them into committing ritual suicide. I’ll get right on that,” muttered Dionysus. Before Zeus could reprimand him for his blatant contempt he vanished.

The other gods left shortly after, until only Zeus and his brothers remained.

“If we cannot rescue Apollo…” said Poseidon

“Hades, would it be possible to resurrect him?” asked Zeus.

“The Formless Void is an ocean of excrement within which his spirit, even stripped of its power, will shine like the sun,” said Hades, and then shrugged. “It could be done--given time. The only question would be if he succumbed to Fading before I found him.”

“Then let us hope it does not come to that,” said Zeus.

“Do you still think these are the machinations of an enemy pantheon?” asked Poseidon and Zeus sighed.

“The evidence doesn’t seem to bear that out, I’m afraid,” he said ruefully and Poseidon looked surprised. “Yes, I can admit that I was mistaken. But it wasn’t fear that motivated that suspicion, it was hope. We have dealt with enemy gods before. We’ve not dealt with… this.”

“Demigods from disparate pantheons, bastard children of endling gods,” sneered Hades. “They must have a leader, a patron. Someone to give them direction, and sponsor their power.”

“Who could do such a thing?” asked Poseidon. “No pantheon would dare move against the terms of the Axis Mundi.”

“Perhaps it is not a god who leads them then.” Both of his brothers looked at Zeus quizzically. “There are a handful of mortals who have dared to challenge gods over the millennia.”

“A bare handful, if any,” grumbled Hades. “Most are dead or otherwise imprisoned, and the greatest of them is chained for our purpose.”

“Not all of our enemies died in the God War,” said Poseidon scratching his beard thoughtfully. “It could be an endling who does not care about the treaty, and feels they have nothing left to lose.”

“They would be wrong,” said Zeus and lightning crackled from the corners of his eyes. His brothers were unimpressed.

The three gods stood in a silence that fast grew awkward.

“How is—are the boys?” asked Hades nonchalantly as he could manage. Poseidon wasn’t fooled for a second.

“They are well. They trust one another and are stronger for it,” said Poseidon meaningfully. Hades made a derisive sound and rolled his eyes.

“I’m tolerating your thinly veiled criticisms, aren’t I?” said Zeus dryly. It was the closest thing to humor his brothers had seen from him in many years.

“It’s a start,” said Poseidon with a slight grin.

“Let’s hope we progress a bit further than that,” said Hades and then added wryly, “Although, you’ll have to forgive me, Poseidon, if I don’t hew too close to my son’s particular brand of devotion for yours.”

Poseidon chuckled, and even Zeus looked amused. It was indeed a start. Perhaps old gods could learn new tricks. Poseidon would pray for that to be true, but who could answer the prayers of gods? There was no power beyond theirs capable of resolving such pleas.

In their moments of disquiet, in some small, anonymous corner of their vast immortal souls, a god might envy mortals for that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I decided to just post the chapters, I finished this fic nearly three months ago and trying to get another beta is just not in the cards. updates will now be much more frequent

East of the Strait of Gibraltar

_When you stand tall amongst giants you become a giant yourself_

Nico

When Nerites had come back from talking with Hercules he’d been in a foul mood. Apparently they needed to make a detour, the god had been extremely vague about why or what for.

Percy was still asleep on the couch. He looked adorable, although his furrowed brow made Nico’s heart ache. When Percy had submerged them in water Nico had panicked; he thought he was drowning. Then he’d realized he could breathe, and the feeling of Percy was all around him, like a cocoon. He’d felt safe, and watching the ocean smash against their enemies he’d also felt protected.

He remembered the look he traded with Jason when they were suspended in the water. The awe, and the fear—not of Percy, but for him.

No demigod should have that much power.

Percy had always been special, first the true child of prophecy, and then the focus of the second Titanomachy. Nico worried at what that might mean, especially now that things were… changing.

“Mmph,” murmured Percy. He’d been asleep for a couple hours, but had begun moving like he would wake up soon. Now he stretched out like a cat, and Nico wondered briefly what it would be like to wake up next to Percy, to have him stretch like that beside him in bed and as his arms fell back down he’d hold Nico close…

It didn’t hurt anything like it used to, but the pain of longing was still pain. Nico turned away from it.

Percy yawned, and then smacked his lips as he sat up. He still looked tired, but not as frail as he had earlier.

“Hey, buddy, how you doing?” asked Jason. Nico was a little relieved to see that he wasn’t the only one Jason mothered, although he hadn’t expected Percy to bear it with such good grace (Nico snickered internally). He’d always thought their competitive streak would prohibit anything resembling tenderness.

At any rate at least it meant Jason wasn’t only babying Nico because he was gay, Jason just got mother-hen-like with anyone who he thought needed his help, apparently. But Percy was looking a little more together, certainly less wild-eyed than earlier. He might not tolerate Jason doing things like tucking him in now.

“Hey,” said Percy, his voice gravelly. “We there yet?”

“No, we’re stopped,” said Nico sourly. They hadn’t moved in a couple hours, and there was no sign of Nerites, and they were underwater, _and_ Nico wasn’t allowed to shadow travel.

So they were stuck, but now Percy was up. They filled him in.

“Why didn’t you guys wake me?”

“You needed to sleep,” said Jason, and Percy looked at him mutinously. This was more familiar territory for them, and for Nico too.

Then Percy blinked, and looked up. “Jason, do you feel that?”

“Feel what?” asked Nico as Jason shrugged.

“There’s a storm above us,” said Percy. “It’s… big.”

“How deep are we?” asked Jason.

“Pretty deep, actually,” said Percy, looking around as if he could see through the walls of their little submersible. Maybe he could in a way, Percy had always been the demigod Nico had ever met, maybe this was just an extension of his growing power.

It wasn’t likely. Nico didn’t like to think about what it meant that Percy was growing in power. Not when the world seemed about to come apart at the seams.

“How long was I asleep?” asked Percy. The unasked question: how long had Nerites been gone?

“A couple hours,” said Jason. “But we can’t exactly go after him.”

“Youmight not, but I totally can,” said Percy.

“You can? We must have _totally_ forgotten about that,” said Jason. “It’s almost like we had the same idea, but decided to see if we could actually find a way out instead of waking you up for no reason. But that’d just be silly.”

“Oh gods,” moaned Percy dramatically and clutching at his throat. “The sarcasm—too thick—can’t breathe.”

“That was pretty thick, Jason,” said Nico. If he were honest he was almost impressed. “At least for you.”

“I am a credit to my master,” said Jason with a deeply obnoxious bow toward Nico.

“Gee, thanks,” Nico drawled. “You’re too kind.”

“And that’s why you’re the master,” said Jason, and Nico scowled.

“So there’s no way out?” asked Percy, done acting out his choking fit.

“Not that we could find,” said Nico. “But please, feel free to have a look.”

“I think I will, thank you very much,” said Percy. “Also, Jason, everything Nico learned about sarcasm he picked up from _my_ witty banter.”

“Witty?’ asked Jason and Nico in stereoscopic disbelief. Percy scowled, and Nico almost felt bad, except for how Percy was a lying liar who lied.

Not _every_ aspect of his life had been shaped by Percy.

Only most of them.

Percy’s scowl dropped and his eyes went wide, which was all the warning Nico and Jason got. He threw out his hands and a second later their ship was slammed back. The couch Nico was on almost tumbled over and Jason’s chair went head over heels. Percy was gasping for breath, his fingers shaking as he tried to hold off whatever was happening in the water outside.

Nico managed to avoid taking a tumble like Jason, but it was a near thing. After a second the worst had passed, but it didn’t entirely abate. Their ship was bobbing in the water, and Nico didn’t dare stand up in case he couldn’t keep his balance.

“What the hell was that?” asked Jason.

“The storm,” said Percy. “It got worse, somehow. It almost feels like…”

Percy trailed off and then lunged forward. He grabbed Jason be the hand and hauled him over toward Nico. Percy and Jason collided with Nico, almost knocking the breath out of him.

Percy was holding his hand, clutching it like a lifeline, both Jason and Percy half on top of Nico. Nico was about to demand Percy explain what the hell he was doing when the ship vanished.

For a split second the inky dark blue of the deep sea hung around them, displaced by the memory of their submersible. Then reality asserted itself and the water came crushing in. Nico almost panicked, but the water did not drown him, did not even really touch him, and he didn’t even feel cold.

What he did feel was Percy’s hand, his grip warm and powerful. He pulled Nico and Jason along with him, and they shot toward the surface. It felt like being on a rollercoaster, and in no time at all they were popping out onto the surface and landing clumsily on the water.

The sky was dark and the wind howled as it whipped up waves into white peaks. Rain falling from the sky didn’t touch Nico anymore than the sea had.

“Dude, I can fly, you can let go now,” said Jason after Percy had settled the water around them into something that could be stood on with only mild difficulty.

“I know, but we’re miles from shore in the middle of a bad storm and the second you let go of my hand you’re going to get soaked,” said Percy. “And good luck finding us again if we get separated. So man up and hold hands with me. Nico’s not complaining.”

There was a moment of awkward silence and Nico sighed. He knew Percy didn’t mean anything by it, that Percy didn’t speak with a filter, or really any forethought at all. Most of the time it was one of the things Nico loved about him, how Percy was honest  and true and always spoke his mind.

Other times it was very easy to not be attracted to such a thoughtless doof.

“You’re lucky I like you, Percy Jackson,” said Nico finally. Jason laughed and Percy squeezed his hand sheepishly. “So, what now?”

“Um,” said Percy. Percy was fantastic in situations where quick action and instinct ruled, but Annabeth had always done most of the long-term, tactical thinking for him.

“How far are we from shore?” asked Nico.

“Not sure, feels like the wind is…” Jason trailed off. “This isn’t a natural storm. I can’t sense any _venti._ It feels empty. Wrong.”

“Great,” said Nico. Just what they needed. And if the storm was unnatural than he’d bet his sword that Nerites’ disappearance was related.

“ _Perseus…”_ the voice was low and distant, and with it came a discordant sound that made most of the hair on Nico’s body stand straight up. “ _Help… me…”_

“Uh, did anyone else just hear that?” asked Percy, his voice a little shrill.

“Yeah,” said Jason. “You think that’s Nerites?”

“Even if it was, how do we find him?” asked Nico.

“Whatever we do we better do it fast,” said Percy, and Nico could hear the strain in his voice. “This storm is getting worse.”

Although the water around them was flattened so they could stand on it, beyond that the waves were nearly as tall as Jason. The wind howling in off the Atlantic was growing worse as well, and Nico could tell Jason was having to exert himself almost as much as Percy.

If only he could shadow-travel. Poseidon had been insistent though, and while Nico didn’t exactly trust gods as a rule, he believed that Poseidon’s warning had been genuine.

At the first opportunity he was asking his father though.

 _“Perseus… please… save me…”_ They all heard the voice again.

“It could be a trap,” said Nico since apparently no one else was going to.

“It usually is,” said Percy. “We still have to go though.”

“Hey,” said Jason tugging on Percy’s hand. “It’s a big storm, right? Think Kym might have something to do with it?”

“You gave her a shrine, right?” said Percy and Jason nodded.

“Still waiting on those action figures though.”

“If she knows they’re coming it should be fine, so she’d have no reason to piss off our dads,” said Percy. “Can’t hurt to try. Hold on guys.”

“Who is Kym?” asked Nico as they sank below the surface. Jason explained as Percy dropped them deep under the water.

When Percy was satisfied they were deep enough he opened his mouth to call out for her and paused.

“Uh, what was her name again?”

“Kymopoleia,” said Jason. “I’ll call for her, I’m the Pontifex Maximus. Or I will be. And I think she likes me more than you.”

“They always do,” grumbled Percy.

“Yeah, except for how that’s not true _at all_ ,” Jason shot back.

“Pretty sure both of you get fawned over more than I do,” said Nico and then wished he hadn’t because now they looked concerned.

The concern was still somewhat novel, and even though it made Nico feel warm it also irritated the hell out of him. He refused to bear the weight of their pity, and it was only the fact that Percy’s hand was what stood between him and a cold, crushing death that made him endure Percy’s gently supportive squeezing.

Maybe he wasn’t as over his feelings as he’d thought, because holding hands with Percy— _allowing_ himself hold hands with Percy—gave him the most gloriously bittersweet ache he’d ever felt. Because Percy knew how Nico felt and he didn’t care, if anything it had made them closer than they’d ever been. While Nico wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that, it was far better than the nightmare scenarios he’d built over and over in his head the last few years.

Jason had finished calling for Kymopoleia, and so they waited. The water around them was dark and Nico couldn’t see much further than a few feet around them. It was almost peaceful hanging in the darkness. None of the fury of the storm on the surface made it this far down.

“You were saying something about how she likes you more?” said Percy after a bit of time had passed.

Jason opened his mouth to respond. Nico had already resigned himself to defusing another bout of macho posturing, when something drew near out of the darkness. Something big.

“Guys, shut up,” said Nico without taking his eyes off the incoming shape.

“Briares!” Percy called out happily. He lurched forward, dragging both Nico and Jason with him.

It was Briares, Nico would have recognized him by reputation alone if he hadn’t met him once before. But as he drew nearer the hairs went up on the back of Nico’s neck. Something felt wrong, Briares loved Percy. So why was he being completely silent as he came to them?

“Briares!” Percy shouted and Nico met Jason’s eyes behind Percy’s back. Jason looked even more cautious than Nico felt. “Briares?”

“Percy Jackson,” rumbled the giant as he drew closer. Briares was huge, bigger than when Nico had seen him last.

“I’m sorry, Percy,” he continued, and now Nico could see that his hundred hands were balled into fists.

That was all the warning they got. Briares punched the water in front of him with such force that the water shot forward at them like a bullet.

And smashed against the wall of Percy’s will. Water exploded, streaming around them in powerful warped currents.

“Briares, what’s wrong? I’m your friend!”

“I’m sorry, Percy,” repeated the giant listlessly. “When they dig in with their hooks you have to obey.”

“We need to get out of here,” said Jason, and Nico agreed.

“No, we need to help him,” said Percy.

“If you let go of our hands we’ll die,” said Nico flatly. “We can’t fight here or defend ourselves.”

“Damn it,” Percy swore and they shot up toward the surface. Nico looked back and to his horror Briares was gaining ground on them. Each stroke of his hundred arms powered him through the water.

“Percy!” Nico shouted and Percy’s grip on his hand tightened. They moved faster, but the giant was still gaining.

“Nico!” Jason was shouting now. He half twisted trying to extend his hand to Nico while not twisting out of Percy’s grip. Nico stretched, his fingertips brushed Jason’s but then the force of the water pushed them down.

With ever muscle in his arm screaming Nico half-lunged for Jason’s hand, and caught him.

They broke the surface and shot into the air. Nico and Percy dropped hands and then it was Jason flying them up through the howling wind and rain.

Percy whooped as Jason hauled them into the sky. Below them Briares broke the surface with a roar. The giant scooped up water with his hundred hands and then hurled it at them.

Jason flew low to avoid the water but then more was coming over them. Briares, who had once hurled so many boulders at Mt. Othrys that the Titans had thought the mountain was collapsing, was splashing water at them like a baby in a tub, if the baby was a giant scooping up blasts of water like ballistic missiles.

The next gush came straight at them. Percy flung up his hand and it streamed around them. But the force of it was enough to slam through Percy into Jason and wrench his hand out of Nico’s.

Nico screamed as he fell. He spun around and was heading face first into the water when Percy half caught him and half body checked him in mid-air. They shot into the water spinning like a bullet. Nico’s world was reduced to dark water and an intense dizziness that made him nearly vomit onto Percy’s chest.

He must have blacked out for a second because the next thing he knew they were careening away from Briares, deep under water. Percy using his size and agility in the water to match Briares’ brute force and speed as best he could.

But it was a delaying tactic, nothing more. If only Nico could shadow travel.

Nico grinned. _He_ couldn’t shadow travel, but…

“Percy,” he yelled. “Over there.” He pointed down to an overhang beneath which the water was utterly black.

“Why?” Percy mouthed back as he backtracked from Briares so he overshot them again.

“Shadows!” said Nico as loudly as he could.

“No!” said Percy looking almost… angry?

“Trust me!” shouted Nico. Percy didn’t say anything else, and for a moment Nico thought—well he didn’t think so much as feel hurt and panicked. Then they were hurtling down into the darkness.

Briares was almost on them, and Nico pulled at the shadows and opened them up. Briares vanished into the darkness, and Nico crowed in triumph. He let the shadows go and the quality of darkness started to fade. Until impossibly long ink-black arms shot out of the gloom and grabbed him, their grip so cold that each shadowy finger burned, and Nico cried out.

A billion chittering voices crawled in his ears until he felt like his brain would burst.

The world turned black.

 

It was dark.

Everything felt so cold…

He was alone.

_?_

Pain. Pain in his brain.

_boy??_

Something in his head. Some _one_ in his head.

_nawty boy…_

Hurts, it hurts. Stop please stop it hurts.

_kum heer boy_

Stop it!

_nawty boy fade into shados…_

No! He wouldn’t!

_nawty boy… no escape from shados boy NAWTY BOY BELONG TO LEVIATHAN NOW_

His body was vanishing. Hanging on was so hard, the pull was subsuming him, there was nothing to keep the darkness from sapping the last of the light inside of him forever. But he wouldn’t give up, not now, not when he was finally learning to be happy, not _ever_ —

**“NICO!”**

 

Cold everywhere and a shock through his body casting whatever that thing was out. “Nico!”

“Percy,” he gasped. He was aware of the world again. He was on a beach, and someone was holding him, cradling him in their lap. And he was so cold he couldn’t reign in his shivering. His teeth clacked painfully and his vision was blurred but he could see now.

He was in Percy’s arms and Percy looked terrified.

“Oh thank the gods,” said Percy and then clutched Nico tight. “You were—you were disappearing  and you had black veins and there was this voice—“

“It’s ‘kay,” said Nico between clacking teeth, stiffly returning the hug. His body felt disconnected and numb. “Wher’s Jason?”

“Right here,” said Jason. Nico looked over to see Jason, his face drawn and pale as he kneeled beside Percy. Nico realized that Jason had a hand on his shoulder and was holding on as if Nico were trying to leave. “You gave us a scare, buddy.”

Nico’s whole body ached, at least the parts that weren’t numbed, and to his horror he saw his hand flicker. It didn’t feel entirely insubstantial, which was good, but the fact that he had just flickered was bad. He hadn’t even gone into the shadows and…

He flinched at the memory of the thing in the dark. Monsters with sharper teeth indeed, it reminded him of the primal horrors that he’d seen in Tartarus.

“Percy, you gotta try again,” Jason was saying.

“Okay, here,” said Percy and Nico realized that he was being passed off to Jason like a sickly infant. He forced himself up to a standing position, and instantly began listing to the side as his vision went fuzzy around the edges.

“Whoa there,” said Jason and then he was supporting Nico. Nico blearily surveyed their surroundings.

They were on a rocky, desolate beach, a few yards above the tideline. The only plants this close to the water were scrub brushes and small, gnarled trees growing out of the gradually sloping earth. There was no sign of civilization in any direction. Jason was keeping the wind mostly at bay, but without Percy at hand Nico was quickly soaked by the rain and—was that hail?

It was. No wonder he felt numb with cold.

“What’s he doing?” Nico asked as he let Jason help him find his footing. Percy was standing in front of a depression in the hill side, concentrating fiercely. Nico was freezing and he could feel Jason holding back shivers. They needed to get dry and warm.

“We need shelter,” said Jason. “So he’s trying to make a cave.”

“What?” Nico nearly shouted. “How dumb are you idiots?”

“Excuse me?” asked Percy and even Jason looked a bit offended.

“Poseidon isn’t an earth-shaper, he’s the Earthshaker,” said Nico testily between chattering teeth. “If you want to trigger a landslide then by all means, keep at it.”

“I was trying to do just a little one,” said Percy, and they were all tired and hurting and Nico decided to head the potential fight off at the pass.

Percy’s depression had loosened some of the earth behind it, but also above it. On the other hand there was one of the larger trees further up the slope was growing just above an oblong boulder nearly as tall as Nico.

With a brief second to focus himself Nico _pushed_ at the earth, hollowing out a space into the hillside just below the tree. Roots kept the earth intact for the entrance, and Nico did his best to make a space big enough for them. Prismatic dots popped around his vision and it felt like his brain was trying to climb its way out of his skull with steel-toed boots.

A last gasp of effort and he rolled the boulder vertical and sunk it into the ground before the entrance. Hopefully that would block some of the wind, and obscure the cave somewhat.

“Gods damn it, Nico,” said Jason and he sounded really upset, but Nico was having trouble telling him to stop worrying so much. His body was ignoring any commands it was given, and Nico was doing his best to just not go limp.

“Come on, get him in here.” That was Percy and he sounded upset too. He didn’t have any right to be, Nico thought fuzzily. If he’d let Percy root around trying to make a cave they’d all have been buried in a rock slide. Probably. Earthquakes weren’t something you just harnessed like a horse.

Percy touched Nico and the water fell away from him.

Being dry felt _amazing_.

Jason and Percy had to get on their hands and knees to help Nico into the cave. Inside there was enough room for Nico to stand, if he’d been able, but Percy and Jason had to hunch their heads sideways.

“I’ve only got the one bed roll,” Jason was saying as he pulled a flashlight out of his backpack. “Sorry.”

“You were the only one smart enough to keep your bag when everything went down,” said Percy. “Pretty sure you’re not the one who owes apologies here. C’mon, let’s get him warmed up.”

The fact that Jason had kept his bag was good news. He was as good as a boy scout that way. Without Annabeth around someone had to be on top of those things. Shadow travel had become a crutch, not something Nico wanted to admit, but it was true. He’d grown too used to hopping around wherever he wanted to get whatever he needed.

“Well, I guess we just need to buckle down for some manly cuddling,” said Jason looking at him worriedly.

 _Fantastic_.

Before Nico could begin disagreeing with this plan of action, he was tugged down on the bedroll. The next thing he knew he was halfway nestled between Jason and Percy. Jason was on his back with Percy kind of tucked under one arm, and Nico was sandwiched between them, his cheek against Jason’s sternum, and Percy behind him.

They were both shirtless, and radiating heat like a summer day. Jason hissed when Nico moved his fingers, they probably felt like icicles.

“Um,” said Nico as Percy tugged Jason’s super-compact sleeping bag over them like a blanket.  “What are you doing?”

“Warmth, dude,” said Percy, and Nico could _feel the rumble of Percy’s voice against his back._ Only a thin layer of cotton fabric separated them. He’d had dreams that started that way. And ended that way for that matter.

He desperately hoped _that_ didn’t happen.

“You’re totally freezing,” Percy continued. “And so is the ground.”

“It’s okay,” said Jason and Nico didn’t know who he was talking to but he was fairly certain that very little was okay at the moment. Being snuggled between two of the (arguably) best looking boys at camp, one of whom he was at least still a little in love with, and both of whom _knew_ …

Yeah, no. Even putting aside the whole quest thing this wouldn’t be okay in a million years.

“Percy, are you wearing cologne?” asked Jason apropos of nothing, and if Nico hadn’t already been stunned that would have put him over the edge into hysterical laughter. As it was feeling had begun creeping back into his limbs, which left a thick, viscous liquid exhaustion in their place. Fatigue dragged at his eyes; he was warm and safe (if horribly embarrassed).

“No. Wait—what? Why?” Percy sounded torn between baffled and complimented.

“That’s just how he smells,” murmured Nico and then was horrified he’d spoken up. Percy smelled like salt in the air, clean as a light breeze off the deep ocean. It was an almost metallic scent that was tempered into a warm human smell that was purely Percy.

“You pay attention to how I smell?” asked Percy and Nico groaned unhappily. “Are you uncomfortable? We can move around if you are.”

“No, ‘s fine,” said Nico. Where Percy thought they could move was a good question, but Nico was too tired to argue. He was drifting off further toward sleep with each passing moment. “If you’re fine, I’m fine.”

“Yeah I’m good. Honestly, it’s kind of flattering,” said Percy with a yawn. “A little creepy but…”

“Jackson, let me give you some friendly advice,” said Jason. “Learn to quit while you’re ahead. Seriously.”

“Percy never quits,” murmured Nico into Jason’s skin. He’d meant it to sound mocking, but it came out sounding all too sincere.

There was nothing about this situation that wasn't outrageously humiliating.

“Hey, you okay?” asked Jason and Nico was about to say something very tart when he realized Jason was talking to Percy.

“Yeah,” said Percy, and it was the kind of obvious lie that you still let slide, at least for the moment.

Jason shifted, pulling Percy more firmly into their little pile. Nico was essentially laying half on top of Jason now, and Percy had slung a leg across Nico and Jason’s and really this was all far more intimacy than Nico was prepared for or even comfortable with.

But at least they were warm and dry. Nico just prayed that nothing embarrassing happened while he was asleep. The last thing he wanted to do to Jason or Percy was start humping them in his sleep. Even if—or perhaps especially if—they coddled him about it.

“Try and get some rest guys,” said Jason, his voice rumbling under Nico’s cheek. “We’re not going to get anywhere fast without some sleep.”

Nico closed his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Camp Half-Blood – The Big House

Morning  

 _The gods are vain and fickle creatures_

_See how they weave the fates of mortals, and how base their motives for doing so_  

Annabeth

After Mr. D finished talking no one spoke. Will had paled to a ghostly white and Lou Ellen was clutching his hand, looking at him anxiously.

“That is such _bullshit_ ,” Clarisse almost shouted, and for once Annabeth agreed with her.

“It is what it is,” said Mr. D, and something in his tone made Clarisse hold her tongue. He didn’t look any happier about this than they did, even Chiron was looking troubled.

Pollux wasn’t at the meeting; he was upstairs resting. Piper had told Annabeth that he was in bad shape and Annabeth believed it. To have lost his brother, and then his mother, and in such a gruesome way…

Annabeth had always known there would be more quests, more violence in her life after the war. She just hadn’t thought it would come so quickly, and so cruelly.

“Get the Apollo kids together and,” began Mr. D when Will interrupted him.

“No.” Mr. D turned a black look on him but Will didn’t flinch. “I mean there’s no need. I’ll do it. I’m the best choice. I’ll do it.”

Will repeated himself as though saying it again would strengthen his resolve. Judging by the drawn look of terror on his face, it didn’t do much.

“There has to be another way, right?” asked Clovis plaintively. “We can’t just let Will be used like… some kind of sacrificial safety valve!”

“More like a divine counterweight,” muttered Jake, and Annabeth closed her eyes, that phrase tickled a memory deep within her mind. Where had she heard it before…

She knew.

“I have an idea,” she said and the argument that had been raging around her went quiet.

“Of course you do,” said Clarisse, but it sounded more relieved than derisive. Everyone knew that if Annabeth had an idea everything would be okay.

This was a bit more pressure than Annabeth enjoyed, but compared to saving the world and surviving Tartarus it was a relatively light burden. It was easier to bear when Percy was around, but she had made do without him before, and would probably have to do so again.

Luckily, she still had Piper around. Piper was the best. She was also sitting next to Annabeth, and took Annabeth’s hand to squeeze encouragingly.

“I remember there being… something that might help us. In Daedalus’ laptop,” said Annabeth. The other counselors looked excited by the prospect and Will was staring at her like she offered him the key to salvation, which to be fair she kind of was. Only Chiron and Mr. D read the subtext of her comment, judging by their expressions.

Amongst his many plans and schemes Daedalus had come up with a way to control a god’s throne.

 

* * *

 

Sure enough, after the meeting broke up and Chiron took Will off to have a quiet chat, Annabeth was approached by Mr. D.

“Bethany, we need to talk,” he said and beside her Annabeth could practically feel the indignation radiating off of Piper.

But Annabeth was long since acclimated to Dionysus’ coping mechanisms. The more concerned he was about a camper the more he would mangle their name. Forgoing the usual Annabel for Bethany meant serious concern.

“The laptop is a good idea,” he said and Annabeth was so surprised she didn’t even try to hide it. “Don’t worry, I’m not done. It’s also incredibly stupid of you.”

“Stupid?” Annabeth bit her lip, she hadn’t managed to hold back her outrage.

“Yes, stupid, daughter of Athena,” said Mr. D. “Or do you think it will pass by Zeus’s attention if you find what you’re looking for?”

“I was going to give it to my mom,” said Annabeth. “If Olympus has the laptop then there’s nothing to fear from it, since I don’t know all of the specifics, I just checked out the folder.”

“And Zeus would still wonder whether you were lying to him,” said Mr. D. “The Lord of Olympus is not in a forgiving frame of mind these days.”

Annabeth wanted to protest that, historically speaking, Zeus was rarely ever in a forgiving mood, but Mr. D was earnestly concerned in his way. And his son was so grief-stricken as to border on comatose.

“Do you have a suggestion, Mr. D?” Piper asked sweetly. They still hadn’t met a being who she couldn’t charm, and in Annabeth’s opinion that wasn’t all down to Piper’s charm speak.

“Yeah, I do. Find the laptop, get what you need off of it, and then destroy it.”

“ _Destroy_ it?” asked Annabeth, absolutely scandalized.

“It’s too dangerous to leave in your hands, and putting it in Zeus’s will only give substance to his fears. Find the laptop and take what you need to save Solace and nothing more. Then destroy it, and bring back proof. _That_ you can show to him.”

Mr. D tilted his head as though he was listening to a whisper and rolled his eyes. “Also, your mother wants you to call her.” He started walking away “Try to stay alive, don’t be stupid, and don’t be a hero.”

“You haven’t changed your mind about heroes, sir?” asked Annabeth incredulously, and he paused mid stride.

“No,” he said, half-turning to face them, his face lined with grief. “Heroes are selfish, arrogant, and thoughtless. I haven’t changed my mind about them one iota. But demigods, you aren’t born heroes. We make you into them. You are our children, and you try so hard…”

The faraway look in his eyes was thick with pain and it made Annabeth want take his hand or even give him a hug.

“We think we are better than you. We are not. We could be, but we are not. It is a human thing to strive to be better than you are, and we are gods. We do not strive for anything.” He looked at her, gruffness easing his sorrow away from his face. “I know that your mother will have some… _scheme_ for you. Just be careful. You risk far more than she does. Our children always do.”

He turned back and faded into the air as he walked off.

Piper made a noise of raw frustration. “I can’t believe this! No, no… That’s not right, because I actually _can_ believe it. Which is somehow worse.”

“I know what you mean,” said Annabeth, feeling exhausted already. Hadn’t they just finished fighting a war?

“Hey,” asked Piper quiet with concern. She took Annabeth’s hand and twined their fingers together. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just another day in the life of a demigod, right?” Annabeth rubbed her thumb in soothing circles on the back of Piper’s hand. When Piper had come back from the hospital trip she’d been so exhausted from trying to keep Pollux out of a complete breakdown that the second Annabeth had gotten her alone she’d broke down herself.

It sounded horrible, and they’d seen far too many horrible things in their lives already.

“Okay, so what do we do now?” asked Piper, suddenly bringing all her positive energy to the fore. It made Annabeth snap out of her melancholy and into planning mode.

She’d never had a friend like Piper before, a girl who was her peer _and_ a confidant. They hadn’t known each other very long, but they had been through so much together that Annabeth almost couldn’t imagine life without Piper any more than she could without Percy.

“First I’m going to message my mom, and then we need to pack,” said Annabeth and then paused. “I mean—“

“Of course I'm going with you,” said Piper, squeezing Annabeth’s hand and adding lightly, “We can’t let the boys have all the fun, right?”

“Right,” Annabeth agreed. “I'm going to see what my mom wants. See you back at the Big House in an hour for the quest planning?”

“Aye, aye, Wise Woman,” said Piper and winked cheekily as she walked away. Piper could always put a smile on Annabeth’s face these days.

The smile lasted until Annabeth reached the shrines.

The shrines had been erected between the Mess Hall and the cabins. So far they had shrines for all of the major Olympian gods and many of the more important minor gods. There were spaces marked out for shrines that were to be built after Jason had gotten the god’s approval in his role as PontifexMaximus.

It was quite a job. Annabeth had been glad that she and Percy were done with commitments like that, that they could finally just be together.

Although apparently _that_ wasn’t without its own complications either. She wished she hadn’t let Percy leave while they were… not fighting, but definitely needing to talk things over.

Each shrine had been constructed with a small fountain inside where a demigod could Iris Message their godly parent on a direct line and speak to them in relative privacy. Annabeth fished a drachma out of the small lockbox set by the fountain at Athena’s shrine. The locking mechanism was fairly complex even for a child of Athena, mostly to deter the more enterprising Hermes kids from emptying it out whenever they wanted spend-money.

The Hephaestus cabin had offered to put a fingerprint lock on for them like they had for the Aphrodite cabin, but Annabeth and her siblings had politely declined. She didn’t want anyone with access to the drachma but Athena’s children, and since _she_ would totally build a backdoor into a lock like that, she assumed the Hephaestus kids would too.

“Pallas Athena, wisest of the gods, please accept my offering,” she said and tossed the coin into the fountain.

Her mother’s face appeared in the misting rainbow immediately, as if she’d been waiting for Annabeth to call.

“Hello, Annabeth,” Athena said fondly and for a moment Annabeth felt all her troubles drop away in the face of her mother’s regard.

“Hey, mom,” she said. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yes. I don’t have much time,” said Athena. “Your plan is sound, but Dionysus is right. Zeus is not predisposed toward leniency at the best of times and these are certainly not those. You cannot let him see what the laptop holds, but destroying that information is not the answer. We shall have need of Daedalus’ schemes and we cannot rely on his spirit to remember all that he accomplished in his life.”

“So, what should I do?” asked Annabeth.

“Secure the laptop and follow Dionysus’ plan, but before you destroy the laptop plug this into it,” said Athena, and her hand extended out from the rainbow to drop a USB drive into her hand. “Once it records everything on the laptop, then you can destroy it.”

“Noted,” said Annabeth and took the small drive and pocketed it. “I’ll get it done.”

“Do not tell anyone else about this,” said Athena. “Not Poseidon’s brat or Aphrodite’s daughter, understand?”

Annabeth’s face must have given her away because Athena sighed. “I’m not asking this because I don’t trust them. My… distaste for him aside, young Perseus has proven himself time and again, and Piper seems to have inherited all that is good about her mother and avoided what is less so. You cannot let them know because we cannot risk discovery, and if we are discovered it cannot appear to be a conspiracy, especially not between myself, Poseidon, and Aphrodite.”

Being afraid of an alliance between Poseidon and Athena was something Annabeth could understand. But Aphrodite? She said as much.

“Yes, Aphrodite,” said Athena ruefully. “That little act of hers is so transparent but everyone still falls for it. Nearly every single story mortals tell each other is about love in one way or another, and yet you still think she’s a flighty, shallow creature. Hells, sometimes I believe it myself, sometimes I think even _she_ believes it. She certainly plays the part well enough.”

Now Athena’s gaze turned stern. “But make no mistake. Aphrodite is the eldest of our pantheon, and the most still worshipped. Mortals do not tremble in fear of the sky any more, but your whole world quakes at the slightest brush of love. Your stories are about love, you praise love above all else, and idealize its capture and realization. If anyone on Olympus could topple Zeus from his throne it would be Aphrodite. And Zeus knows it.”

“Oh,” said Annabeth, for once at a loss for words. Then something occurred to her, and she looked at her mother shrewdly. “I see.”

“I’m certain that you do,” said Athena with a half-smile. “It has been a most convenient rivalry that Poseidon and I have played at through the ages. However, seeing as the political situation on Olympus is precarious at present and liable to become… complicated in the near future, we should focus on circumspection. Do you remember your encounter with the Carter girl?”

“Yes?” said Annabeth, unsure about the sudden subject switch. She hadn’t ever gotten around to calling Sadie what with one thing and the other, but the young magician had stuck in her mind. “Why?”

“I cannot say any more,” said Athena, but she was staring intently at Annabeth. “Only that on your quest you should be prepared for _anything_.”

Annabeth’s mind raced, and when it crossed the finish line of comprehension her eyes went wide.

“You don’t mean--”

“Yes, my daughter, my sweet, brilliant Annabeth, I do,” said Athena, and her eyes were warm and sad. “You may wish to brush up on things before you enter the Labyrinth. And I recommend that you take the Oracle along as your third for this quest.”

“Rachel? I know she went with us into the labyrinth before,” said Annabeth. “But she’s not a demigod, it’s more dangerous for her. And we have Ariadne’s Thread.”

“She is a fast learner, almost as quick as you and your siblings, but most important of all: she can see through the Mist. With Pasiphae’s magic running wild through the resurrected labyrinth you will have to find where Daedalus’ workshop has gone for it is not in the garden. In this the thread cannot compare to the sight of a mortal prophet. Take her with you.”

Athena turned and glared at something Annabeth couldn’t see. “I have to go, Annabeth. Take care, my daughter.”

Athena vanished from the rainbow mist, leaving Annabeth alone with her thoughts. She went to go pack, and consider what she had learned.

 

* * *

 

“No,” said Chiron flatly. “Absolutely not.”

Annabeth took a deep breath but before she could speak Rachel interrupted.

“I don’t think you’re the one who gets to make that call, Chiron,” she said.

“As a member of this camp you are my legal responsibility, according to both mortal and divine law,” said Chiron, “and for your own safety I cannot allow you to go on this quest. We will find an appropriate demigod for the third spot.”

“But I’m not actually a camper,” said Rachel. “And your purview is strictly demigods, which as you just now pointed out, I am also not. Sorry.”

Rachel didn’t sound very sorry. She sounded determined. Annabeth was revising her fears about the quest, she’d forgotten what Rachel could be like.

“If that is how you want to play it Miss Dare,” said Chiron a little stiffly.

“It is,” said Rachel.

“Then I will have to forbid any demigod from taking you on as a questing partner,” he said. “Which is—as you just now pointed out—well within my purview.”

Rachel scowled and Annabeth decided she needed to speak up before tempers frayed any more than they already had.

Honestly, though, Rachel was trying to pull one over on Chiron of all people? He wasn’t like the gods or monsters who were susceptible to flattery and inane deceptions and baffled by modern culture. He’d been caring for demigod children for thousands of years, and was long past wise to their tricks.

If you were going to do something Chiron didn’t want you to, you either had to sneak it by him, or go over his head.

“It’s going to be really dangerous, Rachel,” said Piper solemnly, and Annabeth gave her a quizzical look. Rachel had been to the Labyrinth before, Piper knew that.

“Chiron, my mother specifically said that Rachel should come with us,” Annabeth said to speed things along. “Ariadne’s String just can’t compare to an Oracle’s sight.”

Chiron blinked, looking slightly poleaxed for a moment, then relieved. “The—are you going into the _Labyrinth_?”

“… Yes?” said Annabeth. Piper let loose with an audible sigh of relief. “Where did you think we were going?”

“Tartarus,” he said and a sharp chill gripped Annabeth by her spine.

“Did you think that too?” she asked Piper.

“Yeah,” said Piper with a rueful smile. “Not gonna lie, wasn’t looking forward to it.”

Annabeth realized that Piper had been perfectly prepared to literally walk into hell with her and Rachel without a single complaint. Even after she had listened to Annabeth’s stories about the place.

“Well, since we’re definitely not going to Tartarus,” said Rachel who looked a little green at the thought, “let’s move along.”

“If Lady Athena thinks it best, and you are willing to go, then I will withdraw my objection,” said Chiron. He sounded tired, and Annabeth wondered how many centuries a guardian like him could last, raising and training children and sending them off to die. And Tartarus…

Annabeth couldn’t let herself think about it now. Even the memory of Tartarus exerted its own peculiar gravity, and if she let herself she would fall into that dark well then she would need time to climb back out. Time they didn’t have.

“Excellent,” said Rachel with a clap of her hands. “So! When do we start?”

“Now,” said Annabeth. “We start now.”


	10. Chapter 10

East of the Strait of Gibraltar – An Unknown Island

_Not all lies die in the light. Not all truths are hidden by the darkness_

_These things are exactly as they appear_

Jason

The storm was still on-going when Jason woke up, but at least it wasn’t raining anymore, just totally frigid with a howling wind.

During the night their cuddle pile had shifted. Somehow Percy had migrated to the middle and Jason had woken up to Percy spooning his back, Percy’s breath cool on the nape of his neck. After a brief moment of intense disorientation, Jason looked up for Nico and saw him curled up, his back to Percy’s.

He still couldn’t believe that Nico had come clean with his crush when he came out. Percy had handled it sensitively though, or as sensitively as Percy handled anything.

Carefully slipping out from Percy’s grip, Jason left them alone and got up to go scout outside. When he got off the bedroll and pulled his shirt out from their makeshift pillow Percy grumbled and then rolled over to face Nico, slinging one arm low around Nico’s waist and pulling him to his chest like a teddy bear. Nico made a discontented noise but quickly adjusted to Percy cuddling him.

It was times like this that Jason wished demigods could use smart phones. Taking a picture now, or even a little video would make for amazing razzing material. Annabeth and Leo had been planning to make something after the war, before…

Jason’s throat caught thinking of Leo, and his eyes burned as he crept out of their little cave.

The wind chill outside tore through his jacket like it wasn’t there, and Jason willed a calm area around him to keep away the cold. With a little hop he flew into the grey sky to get a better vantage point. The little sunlight that pierced through the thick, dark cloud cover was weak, and while Jason’s powers kept away the wind he was still freezing within a minute

This weather… it was like winter, a really harsh winter, but it was still September. In the Mediterranean. It filled Jason with foreboding. As he climbed in height he surveyed the island. It was a mostly barren rocky place with little to low vegetation, but as Jason slowly spun in the sky he caught sight of a lighthouse.

Letting loose with a celebratory whoop at the prospect of civilization (and possibly food) Jason flew back down to wake up Nico and Percy.

He stopped just short of the entrance as he heard voices.

“—Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Percy was saying.

“I’m not uncomfortable, it’s just…”

Jason paused, hovering a few inches off the ground. He wasn’t sure if he should interrupt, even if it was freezing outside. They needed to talk.

Also he kind of wanted to listen. Just to make sure nothing got out of hand.

“Just what, Nico?”

“It’s just that I told you, you know, about me, and now you’re doing this,” Nico said and Jason could almost hear him gesturing. “It’s not normal.”

 “Because you’re such an expert on normal?”

All right Jason had done enough eavesdropping, he should bust this up before Nico busted Percy’s lip.

“No, I'm obviously not,” snapped Nico and Jason paused mid back-hop to pretend he was walking up to them. “But I’m also not an idiot, and when you tell someone you have a crush on them and they start constantly _touching_ and _holding_ you then that’s usually a pretty clear signal, because either you're an asshole or—or…”

Crap, Jason had missed his window. Nico’s voice had broken with either anger or sadness (possibly both) and Jason knew that if he walked in there right now Nico would shut down and it’d take at least a couple days to pry him open again enough to talk about anything.

To be fair, it was a marked improvement over the past. Jason had a feeling that the Nico from a couple months ago wouldn’t have even been able to open up in the first place. The boy they had pulled from the jar in Rome was so different from Nico as he was now.

Jason felt privileged he’d been able to play a part in that process.

“I thought you said I wasn’t your type,” said Percy sounding so sulky to Jason’s ear he could practically picture Percy’s face.

Also, as per usual, Piper had been right.

“Yeah, I said I had _realized_ you weren’t my type. Because like I said I _had_ feelings for you—as in at one point those feelings _were_ _active._ ”

“Fine, then I won’t touch you anymore,” Percy snapped and Nico groaned.

“Gods, you realize you have no right whatsoever to get pissed at me? Like I’m the one who had to deal with feelings and now you’re—what am I supposed to think? I know you don’t mean it, but you keep fucking doing it! SO WHAT GIVES PERCY?”

Okay, even if Nico clammed up Jason was gonna have to interrupt or some feelings—and possibly some faces—were definitely going to get hurt.

“I’m sorry! Okay? I’m just trying to make for being a crap friend,” Percy nearly shouted, and then quieted down. “What you said on the Argo before you left with Reyna, I thought about it. A lot. And I wanted to do better, but after you told me, you know, how you felt, I started to realize what you’ve gone through, just how much I have absolutely failed you in, like, every possible way. And I don’t know how to make it up to you. I kind of don’t think I can, but I have to try. You deserve it, you deserve to feel normal and happy, and I don’t know how to do those things any more than you do!”

“Percy, you don’t have to prove anything to--”

“And you _said_ you were over me and I wasn’t even your type so I thought I could be, you know, affectionate and it would be really clear that it didn’t bother me and I support you, all right?”

Nico didn’t seem to have a response for that so Jason decided to land with as much audible flair as he could manage.

He kneeled next to the boulder that semi-sheltered the cave’s entrance and leaned his head in.

“You guys up? Good, because I saw a lighthouse,” he said. He didn’t bother to pretend not to notice the redness around Nico’s eyes or Percy’s pained expression, but he went out of his way to make it clear he wouldn’t comment. Both of them were more likely to come talk to him if he didn’t push. “We should go check it out.”

Message delivered, Jason floated inside and went about packing up his backpack. He double checked he had everything, including the Master Bolt fulgurite, which tingled at his touch.

Percy and Nico didn’t say much as they helped deflate the bed roll and stuff Jason’s sleeping bag back into its tiny sack. It wasn’t exactly an awkward silence, but it definitely was not a comfortable one. The air was thick with the ghosts of words thought so hard they almost spoke themselves.

Jason would have to have a chat with Percy, because his behavior was a bit out of line. There was a vast gulf between making sure that Nico wasn’t shamed for his feelings and being so physically affectionate it came off as an invitation.

Percy wasn’t a bad guy, no matter how much crap he gave himself for the things he’d done. Jason felt he knew Percy almost as well as he knew himself, like they were two sides of the same coin. Except that Nico was yet another side of a coin, if coins had three sides, which they didn’t.

The silence was getting to Jason, he was thinking crazy thoughts. “It’s still freezing outside, so Nico I’d like to fly you to the lighthouse first. Percy, you make your way after me and I’ll come back for you.

“Why am I going first?” asked Nico flatly. Jason almost rolled his eyes. There was being touchy about being coddled and then there was just being an over reactive jerk. Sometimes Nico had trouble navigating that line.

Not just some times, if Jason was honest with himself, which he tried to be.

“Because you weigh less, so you can carry the supplies and with Percy following spend less time lugging him around.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?” asked Percy, his eyes dancing merrily. “Rude.”

“I’m saying that I think you’re probably forty pounds heavier than Nico so… yeah,” said Jason.

“Not forty pounds,” said Nico skeptically looking at Percy.

“Dude,” said Percy, “you’re like four inches shorter than me and you lost a ton of weight this summer. And you’re 14. You’ll catch up.”

“My mom wasn’t very tall,” said Nico softly. Percy bit his lip, clearly unsure of what to say.

“Percy, mind handing me the bag?” asked Jason as he squeezed Nico’s shoulder comfortingly, because there really wasn’t anything to say to that, just support to be offered.

“Yeah,” said Percy as he finished packing. Jason turned to Nico.

“Ready?”

“Fine, let’s get this over with,” said Nico sourly. Jason bit back a laugh, Percy wasn’t so considerate. Nico gave Percy the stink eye and he shut up.

“So, that way?” Percy pointed and Jason nodded. He took off walking, and Jason winced as he saw the wind instantly start tearing into Percy as he left Jason’s bubble.

“Okay, let’s do this quick,” said Jason and turned to scoop up the backpack, but Nico had other plans. He grabbed the backpack himself and then gestured for Jason to carry him side by side.

“You’re not carrying me like some damsel in distress,” he said darkly and Jason continued being an incredibly gracious and considerate friend and didn’t say anything.

Honestly he probably deserved a medal at this point.

He shot into the air, over Percy’s head toward the lighthouse. Light filled the sky, Jason’s skin tingling as the lightning called to him. A moment later the air was full of the dull rumble of distant thunder. The sound carried through Jason’s body, and nearly made him stall in mid-flight.

The storm that was still raging around them? The storm that had nearly killed them last night? They were as stars to the sun compared to the storm being born. Normally a storm felt full of ‘life’ to Jason, or at least spirits of the air. Like he’d told the others, this storm felt empty. And that emptiness was swirling all around him, folding the storm into existence.

With a burst of speed Jason flung himself through the air. He had to get Nico to shelter so he could head back and get Percy before the storm hit, or if worst came to worst not long after it had begun.

Nico must have read his mind because when they were drawing near to the abandoned building he shouted in Jason’s ear to put him down on the hill and he’d make his way down.

“I’ll try and get an Iris Message through,” Nico called back as he took off for the lighthouse.

After offloading Nico, Jason turned around and shot back toward Percy. The wind was picking up, and what little sunlight had pierced the thick cloud cover was now gone. It was nearly as dark as night, and growing even colder. It wouldn’t rain when the storm came, it would hail.

Flying was becoming increasingly difficult. Jason strained against the force of the wind, and swore with feeling when he saw the first few grains of ice fall from the sky.

He crested over the hill and swore. Percy was gone.

“Gods dammit, Jackson.”

Jason spun around in the sky, his mind racing. What had happened? Should he go back and get Nico to look for Percy?

A boulder came flying through the air and almost killed him.

Jason dropped out of the way his heart pounding. He felt the pull of the boulder’s passage through the air as it whizzed by him, his stomach had climbed up into his throat. He took off in the direction it came from: the beach. When he got in sight of the water he swore again.

Briares had returned from his trip to the shadows, and he looked much the worse for wear. Many of his hands had broken fingers, and long ragged wounds had been torn all over his body that oozed golden ichor. Even so, Jason could see that Percy was only delaying the inevitable.

It was still impressive though. Most demigods would have died immediately going against a giant like Briares, Percy was drawing this out, mostly so he could draw Briares away from the lighthouse. Because he was Percy Jackson and he’d risk certain death over the prospect of his friends getting hurt without a moment’s hesitation. Not that Jason didn’t agree, but it wasn’t the most tactically sound move. The three of them together were far stronger than they were apart.

Losing Leo had been bad enough. Jason wasn’t losing any more friends.

As he was dodging attacks Percy tripped and Briares raised up his hundred hands to smash him into a bloody pancake. Jason was still half a football field away, and so he did the only thing he could.

Jason had thrown lightning plenty of times in his life. He knew the shape of it, where it came from within him, how to wield it, and the power it granted. All of this was familiar to him.

So when the blast that erupted from him was stronger than anything he’d ever felt before, when the power that moved through him was so great it subsumed him, and for a moment he _was_ the lightning, it came as something of a surprise.

The piece of the Master Bolt in his pocket crackled as it fed him strength channeled from his father’s mightiest weapon. Electricity roared through the sky, searing the air and slamming into Briares like a ballistic missile. The giant was lifted up off his feet with the force of the blow, and when he fell back to earth the ground shook. Everything smelled sharp like ozone, and the heat from the enormous bolt lingered in the air.

Percy was lying on the ground, perfectly still. Jason flew so fast that he overshot his landing and tumbled painfully into the rocky beach, before scrambling back to Percy.

“Come on, Percy, come on,” said Jason as he pulled out a bit of his emergency flask of nectar that he always kept on him these days. He tilted just a splash into Percy’s mouth and watched with bated breath as Percy coughed and swallowed.

“Percy, can you hear me?”

“Jason?” Percy was slurring pretty hard, but he could talk and he recognized Jason.

“Oh thank Jupiter,” breathed Jason.

“Didja,” coughed Percy and then groaned. “Didja get the number of that truck?”

“Bro, you are _terrible_ ,” said Jason as he cradled Percy’s head. “You all right enough for me get us out of here?”

“Yeah, almost, just gimme a second,” said Percy and Jason gave him another sip of nectar.

“Come on buddy, up we go,” said Jason after Percy had taken a few breaths. “Nico’s waiting for us.”

“Yeah, yeah, I—oh no,” said Percy, his eyes bugging out like a cartoon. Jason turned to follow his line of sight and froze. The cuts and burns covering Briares steamed and sizzled with golden foam.

His wounds were healing.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” chanted Percy and Jason grunted as he hauled him up to his feet. Percy wasn’t quite as tall as he was, but the difference of an inch didn’t matter much when Percy was basically solid muscle.

Nico was strong but wiry, and frankly he hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet (the guy even seemed doubtful he would have one). Carting him around wasn’t very hard, even with Jason’s bag on. Percy on the other hand, was a heavier load.

Heaving with all of his might Jason lurched into the sky. Percy’s arms wrapped around his neck, one of his ankles hooked around Jason’s calf. Jason clasped Percy to his chest, his hand splayed out against the small of Percy’s back. For a moment he had an odd feeling of dissonance as memories of holding Piper almost like this, dancing in the sky with her.

Except that Percy’s body felt nothing like Piper’s.

Briares was levering himself up just as Jason cleared the hill from the giant. But for once luck was with them, so to speak. The wind had picked up again at the same time a half-frozen rain began to fall. It wouldn’t be safe to stay at the lighthouse for long, but they should have enough time to regroup and plan their next move.

“Briares,” said Percy sadly. Out of sight they could hear the giant roaring. Whether it was in anger or pain, Jason couldn’t tell.

They made it to the lighthouse without further incident, even though Percy’s grip had slowly lost its strength as Jason flew. When he landed Percy sagged against him and Jason nearly teetered over before he got the door open.

“Nico! Percy’s hurt,” Jason called out as he closed the door with one hand.

“Oh, fuck me sideways,” said someone who was _definitely not Nico._

Jason looked up in horror to see Nico bound and gagged in a chair, his eyes wide with fear, between two women. The one speaking was the shorter of the two, although she was still nearly as tall as Percy. She had short-cropped hair, and the kind of scars and muscles that came from surviving a lot of violence. “How the hell did they survive that?”

“I told you not to underestimate them Nari,” said the other, taller woman in a lilting accent that placed her from somewhere in West Africa. She was younger and less muscular than her companion, and there was a laziness to her posture that reminded Jason of a cat feigning disinterest while it played with a mouse. “Just because they’re dumb kids doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous.”

“You have to stop using my name, Huntress,” said Nari scowling up at her companion. “One of these days Grandfather is gonna mess you up so bad Messenger won’t be able to patch you back together.”

Percy’s hand tightened on Jason’s shoulder. With Nico bound up and Percy barely able to stand Jason was going to have to take the lead.

“All right, let’s wrap this up,” said someone behind Jason. For a moment everything seemed to slow down, and then Jason dropped Percy and rolled, coming up holding his sword in one hand and the Master Bolt fulgurite in the other.

The boy standing behind him in a gray hoodie dodged as Percy came out swinging with Riptide.

“ _Hold_ ,” he said, his golden eyes gleaming, and Jason found he couldn’t move anymore. At least he was in a solid stance so he stayed standing, Percy toppled face first onto the ground.

“Thanks, Magic,” said Huntress. “See, War? I can behave.”

Jason couldn’t move, but he could feel the Master Bolt thrumming in his hand. All down his arm the power was chomping at the bit to let fly and destroy his enemies. Except that if he let loose with it in the relative small space of the entry hall, he might hurt Percy and Nico.

“So, our orders?” asked War.

 “Sky says we only need one of them,” said Magic, tapping rapidly on his phone with his thumbs. “But I’m checking with Grandfather first before we kill the other two.”

Well, that had escalated quickly. Lightning was pretty much the only option now, and Jason tried to tell Nico with his eyes not to panic and start pulling out the shadows. That was the absolute last option.

Very slowly and with great care, Jason molded the power in his hand. If he attacked Magic first, then he and Percy could get free. He didn’t dare try for the other two, they were entirely too close to Nico for it to be safe.

“Grandfather says it doesn’t matter, but Death wants the bodies,” said Magic. “Dead or alive.”

“She is so disgusting,” said Huntress wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Which is easier for you, Jibril?”

“Huntress…” said War.

Huntress threw her hands up in the air and Jason chose that moment to let loose with the Master Bolt.

For a split second the power swelled to fill the room with crackling static, and then it all winked out, leaving everyone’s hair on end.

“Well, that just happened,” said War shaking her head. She unsheathed a massive and wicked looking combat knife. “Anyway, we’ve still got gods to harvest, so let’s just bring back Di Angelo back for Death. He’s a child of Hades and his body will be a lot less to cart around if we have to drag Jackson back whole.”

Nico stiffened in his chair and then exhaled shakily behind his gag. War advanced on Jason and as he strained for the lightning he could see the shadows in the room growing longer, and tears on Nico’s face as he prepared to brave the shadows to save them.

Then there came a sound. It was the loudest thing Jason had ever heard, so massive in scope that it felt like his head was trapped in a vice. It was like a billion gongs being struck, if they made gongs each as large as the moon.

It was followed by a tearing sound, as thought someone had just ripped every nylon stocking across the world in half at once. Sound rattled up Jason’s spine and his stomach nearly rebelled at the force of it.

Magic staggered and coughed, blood spraying form his mouth, and then Jason could move again. Percy could too, and he rolled back into a standing position, his sword raised as Jason moved to his side. They exchanged glances, and were about to attack as one when the building exploded around them. The walls and ceilings were pulled out and up until the air was full of floating debris as the hail and wind howled in.

Standing in the air above them was a man. He was the most attractive man Jason had ever seen. If Cupid had been there he would have been put to shame. The man had pouty lips, high cheekbones, and dark brown eyes deep enough to fall into. His black beard was delicately trimmed, and his olive skin was unblemished and smooth. He wore a casual, dark bespoke suit that probably cost as much as a new car.

He looked exasperated, but so mildly that it bordered on resignation.

“I told you lot what would happen if I caught you playing in my backyard again,” said the man, and his voice was as melodious as he was handsome. “Did your master not tell you what happened to the last of your little cabal who crossed me?”

“We beg your pardon, Lightbringer,” said War as she kneeled. After a beat so did Huntress and Magic, who had to pick himself up off the ground. “We did not mean to cause offence.”

Nico, who was the only one not facing the man, had been craning his head around to get a look. At War’s words he jerked in surprised and toppled over, chair and all.

“Didn’t you? I suppose it doesn’t matter. You are, after all, merely instruments in your masters’ design,” said the man. “And it does no good to break a man’s tools if he will only replace them.”

“We’re not tools,” snapped Huntress but the man was ignoring her now.

“A son of Hades, Poseidon, and… Jupiter? All together?” he asked as he floated over toward Jason and Percy. “Or perhaps I should say Zeus Pater, now that the Olympians have undergone _syncretismus_. Of course then it isn’t so surprising a notion.”

With a flick of his wrist Nico floated into the air, chair and all, and then resettled upright. “A boy out of time. Almost interesting.”

And then he turned to Percy. He looked him over skeptically. “And you? Really? You’re the Olympian’s child of prophecy? Here I thought the Trimurti were scraping the bottom of the barrel with their chosen.”

“Okay, I don’t know who you are—” Percy started saying.

“I am Lucifer,” the man said matter-of-factly.

“—But I…” Jason choked as Percy trailed off and then asked weakly, “What?’

“NOW!” shouted War.

Light flared up from Magic as he slammed his hand on the ground and screamed a silent word that made Jason’s bones ache. Lucifer’s body wavered and for a second Jason was reminded of the time he caught a glimpse of Hera’s true form.

Then everything was on fire, and although he could feel the heat it didn’t burn him. The fire raged for a few seconds and the light was blinding, and then it all stopped.

The trio of enemy demigods were gone (along with most of the lighthouse) and Lucifer’s frown was more than a little rueful.

“Have to admit, didn’t see that one coming.”

Percy wavered next to Jason, so he unobtrusively tried offer him a shoulder to lean on.

“Now,” said Lucifer, turning to face them, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “What shall I do with the three of you?”


	11. Chapter 11

The Labyrinth

_An intelligent man might hide a thing in plain view, as people rarely see the truth of what lies before them_

_A wise man would hide it in the sun, because it is blinding_

Annabeth 

The Labyrinth had changed since Pasiphae revived it. The aura of menace that suffused the material of every passageway was… different. Roots pierced through the wall at odd intervals, doorways lead into nothingness, and shadows flickered from light that couldn’t be seen. There was a wildness now, especially when the lights grew dim.

Overall the effect left Annabeth deeply unsettled.

“Other gods…” said Piper in awe. “Wow. I mean it makes sense, but I never thought. Wow.”

“Athena came out and said it just like that?’ asked Rachel, breathing a bit heavily. She wasn't in quite as good shape as Annabeth and Piper, something Annabeth was keeping an eye on.

“Not really. She was oblique enough for plausible deniability,” said Annabeth. “You aren’t surprised.”

“I’m the Oracle,” said Rachel simply, and Annabeth had to concede that was a fair explanation in and of itself.

“So, how does that work?” asked Piper. “And if there are Egyptian gods, then are all the gods alive?”

“No,” said Annabeth. “At least I don’t think so. Do you know, Rachel?”

“Most of the old pantheons are dead. Only a handful survived intact to the present. And there are plenty of endling gods, the last of their pantheons, but the only big players left are on Olympus and Meru.”

“Meru?” asked Piper.

“Mount Meru is the home of the Hindu gods,” said Annabeth. “I don’t know where it is.”

“The Shanghai tower,” said Rachel, breathing heavily now. “Well, towers I suppose. Each of the Trimurti has their own. Kind of. It’s a bit of a different system. Hold up, I need a minute.”

Annabeth had been firm about Rachel pacing herself. It was better they spend a little more time starting out rather than Rachel injuring herself trying to keep up with Annabeth and Piper.

After taking a quick look around, Annabeth sank down against the wall into a sitting position. Rachel was doing some slow stretching and taking small sips of water.

Piper sat down next to Annabeth and bumped her shoulder. “Do the boys know?”

“I think so,” said Annabeth. “Percy definitely knows, and I imagine that Jason does since Reyna did. Nico’s probably known for a long time, there’s precedent for Hades keeping him informed about these things.”

“Yeah, probably,” said Piper. She stretched her legs out in front of her and rolled her ankles about. “That boy takes on way too much by himself.”

“Well, hopefully things will be different now that he’s out and knows we support him,” said Annabeth. In retrospect Annabeth didn’t feel so much a fool for thinking Nico had a crush on her as she did guilty for not even considering the possibility Nico might be attracted to Percy. If she had just paid more attention, been a bit more open-minded, maybe she could have helped him with all the pain he’d gone through.

It might have saved all of them a lot of trouble.

Still, perhaps guilt wasn’t the right word, regret would be better. All the same it didn’t do to dwell on might-have-been’s. Not with how many she’d acquired through the years.

“I hope he calls that guy—Tanner—who gave him his number,” said Piper. “Maybe it’ll push Will into making a move.”

“They’ll be ready when they’re ready,” said Annabeth. “Also, I think Nico might be the one who makes the first move.”

“How about it, Rachel?” asked Piper. “You think Will’s gonna ask out Nico, or the other way around?”

Rachel had an odd look on her face, one that Annabeth couldn’t read. She wouldn’t meet their eyes. “I try not to read the futures of my friends if I don’t have to.”

“I wasn’t asking the Oracle, I was asking Rachel,” said Piper gently and Rachel looked sheepish.

“Sorry, but it’s a joint package. Anyway, I’m good to go if you guys are.”

Piper raised an eyebrow at Annabeth but got to her feet without comment. Annabeth shrugged, but inside she was thinking hard. Rachel was avoiding the question, and that left Annabeth unsettled because she didn’t know why.

“This way,” said Rachel.

They traveled deeper into the Labyrinth, with only Rachel’s oracular vision to guide them. Soft noises on the edge of her hearing kept Annabeth tense, like the ghosts of whispers. The malevolence of the Labyrinth was almost more sinister for how sluggish it felt. And then there was the time dilation. Even though they’d only entered the Labyrinth a couple hours ago it felt like they’d been wandering for days. Rachel would stop periodically and peruse their surroundings, before directing them down yet another winding pathway.

“So what exactly is on the laptop?” asked Piper. “You were pretty vague.”

“Daedalus had plans for everything,” said Annabeth after a moment’s consideration. “Including attacking the gods. One of his plans centered around the mechanics of the thrones and how they relate to a god’s power.”

“What’s the mechanic?” asked Piper and Annabeth hesitated. She’d only skimmed those files, more focused on other matters at the time, but as Dionysus had said, she knew enough to get herself in trouble.

A god’s throne was, quite literally, the seat of their power. It was the place where they stored their essence, and anchored it to the Mist. If a god’s body was destroyed they would reincarnate within their throne, restoring their vessel, but it was the bond with the Mist that Daedalus had found most significant. The Mist was more than just magic, it was the furthest emanation of the stuff that gods were made of, and its presence within all things was what maintained fate and created prophecies.

The gods existed with their own rules and reasons, and their thrones held down the entire system, especially the thrones of the twelve (now thirteen) Olympians. Along with the Trimurti those two clusters of power created a line through the world, an Axis Mundi that was the foundation for the Mist and of fate itself, binding all of creation together. The physical manifestation of a treaty that kept the gods from warring against each other.

It was some of the most dangerous information Annabeth had ever come across.

“She doesn’t want to tell you because it’s dangerous information,” piped up Rachel from just in front of them. “The kind that the gods might kill to keep secret.”

“Oh,” said Piper. She looked at Annabeth worriedly.

“It’s okay,” said Annabeth. “I have a plan.” It wasn’t a lie, but the plan offered Annabeth little comfort. She didn’t have to tell Piper that though, people always felt better when they thought Annabeth had a plan.

Unfortunately it looked like Piper saw through her words, and the look she gave Annabeth was wryly affectionate and more than a little concerned. Piper saw but she didn’t push, just affirmed that she was there.

Somewhat ironically, this made Annabeth feel better about her mother’s plan. Piper had her back. It meant a lot.

Up ahead of them something crunched, like a massive gear eating into a slab of concrete. The hall they were in stretched up into a colossal pointed arch over the length of a football field, and massive pillars dotted the room as if straining to connect heaven and earth. Annabeth and Piper pulled Rachel down behind a toppled one just as the door at the far end exploded in a mess of wood and stone.

Spilling out from the explosion stumbled a man, his clothes ragged and dingy. He looked familiar and for a moment Annabeth couldn’t place him. Then the gates of memory opened.

“Dr. Thorn,” she breathed.

“That’s the manticore?” hissed Rachel and Piper’s face lost all confusion.

“Please! I can still be useful!” Dr. Thorn shouted as he scrambled on the floor.

From the doorway behind came inhumanly tall, willowy figures. Their skin was an organic patchwork of grays and matted with wispy white hairs. They were of somewhat varying sizes but were uniform in proportion: bodies and limbs elongated and thin, and without heads, just stumps for necks that ended in a round point like unfinished dolls. From their backs extended other small stubs, as though they had once had wings. They moved in concert, some on all fours like apes, others picking their way daintily and deliberately through the debris like long legged birds or dancers.

And they were utterly silent.

“You can’t do this to me!” shrieked Thorn. His human seeming fell away and his monster form rose in its place. “You gave your word!”

“Gave my word?” asked the man who was emerging from the shadows. He was dressed like a dandy and had a thick dark beard that did nothing to offset his cold black eyes. He could have been considered rakishly handsome, except he had the look of a person who didn’t see other people as people, only things. “I gave you nothing, let alone something so valuable as my word. Still, I would have let you depart unmolested, had you not stolen from me.”

“I didn’t steal anything!” Dr. Thorn wailed. This was not the proud and dangerous monster that Annabeth remembered, this sniveling thing was… pathetic.

Who was this man that he terrified the manticore?

“Yes, you did,” said the man, tranquilly insistent. “You left before I gave you leave, and thus you are still my property. What else could that be called, but theft?”

“No!” screamed Dr. Thorn as some silent signal sent the gray figures tumbling forward as one. To Annabeth’s horror their stomachs split apart to reveal horrible crooked-toothed hungering mouths and they fell on Dr. Thorn like blood-frenzied sharks.

They tore the manticore apart with their unnaturally long fingers and fed morsels to the mouths in their stomach. It was over quickly. Once the manticore died it began to crumble into gold dust and the gray figures couldn’t eat quickly enough to outpace the process.

Striding forward quickly the man who commanded the creatures moved to the vanishing dust of the manticore’s body and plucked something from the air. For a moment it shined like a spark and then vanished.

“Not quite enough,” he said and sounded disappointed. He turned around and walked out of the room. The headless gray figures began to follow him.

Next to Annabeth, Rachel let out a small sigh of relief.

Acting as one the gray figures turned their stump necks back toward the three of them. The man paused.

“Yes?” he asked. The figures didn’t respond, just trained their attention around the room. Rachel looked pale and terrified, but Piper was soothing her silently and she hadn’t panicked.

Even Annabeth was panicking a bit, but on the inside. She had long since become a master of compartmentalizing, and was also casing the room for alternatives to her backup plans. It would all depend on what happened next…

“Well go and look then,” the man was saying as he turned his back. “Come back when you’re finished.”

Most of the strange creatures followed him out, but four of them stayed behind and began slowly and methodically investigating the room. They lowered their stump heads to ground where they twitched like a bloodhound’s nose and the clipped wings on their back flexed in time.

Annabeth ran down their remaining options in her head. They could run and try to lose the things in the Labyrinth. They were clearly at home in their surroundings, but Rachel was a natural navigator.

She was not however a natural runner. The creatures would overtake them, unless they were misled.

Annabeth looked at Piper and communicated her plan in quick gestures. Piper didn’t look happy about it, but pulled Rachel to her side. Annabeth put on her Yankee’s cap and drew her sword, its weight a comfort in her hand. It was likely she would only draw off two of the monsters, but Piper and Rachel would be better able to deal with two than the three of them dealing with four.

If she was going to move it would have to be now. Annabeth took a deep breath, and then burst out from behind cover. She didn’t bother yelling or doing anything to draw their attention, just went for pure speed. The creatures would notice her without any added fanfare, or so she theorized.

She was right. They did notice her. But they moved much faster than she had expected.

As soon as Annabeth broke cover the beasts came for her, moving across the floor and debris so fast Annabeth barely had time to get her sword up. She heard Piper scream and two of the monsters stumbled, but the other two bore down on her.

Annabeth switched up her footing and then met their charge with one of her own. She slipped under the first monster’s arm and stabbed it in the chest. The dakon bone blade pierced through the gray hide and hot copper liquid poured out of the creature.

It staggered, but grabbed Annabeth’s arm in its impossibly long and impossibly strong fingers, and she didn’t even have time to scream as the other creature lunged at her, the mouth in its stomach biting down on her shoulder.

Pain of every variety consumed Annabeth’s world. She was shouting for Rachel to run and it felt like her body was being ripped in two.

Then a pair of hands grabbed the monsters attacking her around their stub necks and crushed them.

Annabeth slumped to the ground, and knew she was going into shock. She needed to eat some ambrosia but she couldn’t move. Above her the she saw the hands belonged to a woman wearing trendy workout clothes. Her black hair was cropped close to her head and she had the kind of musculature that said she cared far more about strength than appearance.

“See to the girl, Nanny,” she said, her voice commanding and her accent foreign. She moved out of Annabeth’s vision, and in her place appeared another face, delicate and handsome.

“Hello, Wisdom’s Daughter,” said Nanny, his slender brown finger holding up a sliver of pear to her mouth. “Here is sustenance. Eat.”

Annabeth tried to speak, to say she needed ambrosia or nectar, but then the pear touched her lips and it was—if ambrosia and nectar tasted like a demigod’s favorite food, then the pear tasted like a favorite fantasy. It tasted like spices and honey and laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe. Each bite made suns flare to life in her body, spreading heat through her limbs to her fingers and toes.

The pain had vanished the moment she began to taste the pear. When she finished chewing and swallowed it did not return.

“Do not try to stand just yet,” said Nanny. “Fruit from the Garden is not like the food of your gods.”

Annabeth croaked, cleared her throat, and then tried again. “My friends, are they okay?”

“They’re fine,” said Nanny. “Oya is just mopping up the last of the nephilim right now.”

“Nephilim?” asked Annabeth weakly. Nephilim were biblical—the children of fallen angels and men, a race of giants known only from apocryphal gospels. But Annabeth had never imagined they might look the way they had.

She’d ever imagined she’d encounter them.

“You might also know them as the acephalos,” continued Nanny. “Or blemmyes. They have been called hsing tian, ewaipanoma, kabandha, and many more names besides. They are the headless men, but they are first and foremost nephilim.”

Annabeth was aware enough now to hear the last great wet crack of the fight. Nanny winced as it happened. “Well, that’s over now. Can you stand, child of Athena?”

She honestly didn’t know. It was one thing to know the existence of other gods. But to call those creatures nephilim… what it implied…

“Annabeth!” Piper and Rachel were suddenly at her side. Piper had the beginnings of a black eye and Rachel looked frightened but unharmed. “Oh thank the gods.”

“You’re welcome,” said Nanny with a wink. “Oya?”

The goddess who had saved Annabeth now stood over her. “The Morningstar spoke the truth.”

Okay. This was getting out of hand. Piper was staring at her with wide eyes but Rachel…

“Well,” said Rachel with a heavy sigh. “Guess that’s the last cat out of the bag.”


	12. Chapter 12

Ibiza – Lucifer's seaside villa 

 _You have been lied to, and now you know the truth_

_Is it everything you dreamed it would be?_

Nico

“This is really good,” said Percy around a mouthful of food.

“I’ll inform the chef,” said Lucifer. They were sitting on an actual marble veranda overlooking the crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean eating lunch.

With the Devil.

Percy was right though, the food was very good. A veritable feast covered the table, most of it plates of finger food. Pickled banana peppers and anchovies, _jamon ibérico,_ chickpeas in olive oil, stuffed eggs, crispy codfish pastries, bread rubbed with oil and tomatoes, fried eel, roasted vegetables, and a bowl of periwinkles that Percy and Jason were conspicuously avoiding (whenever Nico ate one they got a look on their faces halfway between awe and disgust, so of course he’d eaten nearly half the bowl already).

And there was Cava, bottles of it. The sparkling white wine would go straight to Nico’s head, he knew from experience. He’d limited himself to sipping at a single glass.

He wasn’t sure Jason and Percy knew that though. Jason was already looking a little flushed and Percy had nearly finished his glass. Nico had grown up drinking wine--well mostly tasting his mother’s glass--but Americans had Views about children and alcohol. Which meant that Percy and Jason didn’t know their limits.

And they were letting their guard down. Despite himself, Nico could understand the impulse. Fighting Lucifer and trying to escape would be counter-productive. They needed shelter and a good meal to get their bearings. They were guests, and they were being treated with every courtesy, and they were expected to accept these courtesies.

And they weren’t the only ones who had been rescued by the devil.

“Nerites, you haven’t touched your food,” said Lucifer. The Devil had changed into a white linen shirt (unbuttoned to expose his dark olive skin and light dusting of midnight black chest hair) and shorts.

“Well, I’m not happy with you,” sniffed Nerites. He wasn’t facing the table; his chair was turned so that he could watch the sea, and avoid Lucifer.

Massaging the bridge of his nose, Lucifer sighed. That had also been a surprise: Nerites and Lucifer knew one another. And they weren’t the only ones. “And why aren’t you happy with me?”

“You sent my _ex-boyfriend_ to rescue me,” said Nerites tossing Lucifer a dark glower. He very much looked and sounded like a surly teenage boy.

Nico’s feelings around Nerites were decidedly ambivalent. Seeing the effect he’d had on Percy was hard to forget. At the same time Nico had a great deal of empathy for people who got screwed over by love gods, even if they were gods themselves.

“Well I couldn’t very well go myself,” said Lucifer extracting a snail from its shell with a toothpick. “And I didn’t think you’d appreciate it if I asked Chernobog. Cernunnos volunteered, so take that as you will.”

“Oh gods that’s hot!” Percy yelped around a mouthful of pickled peppers and fish. To Nico’s horror he grabbed his just refilled glass of wine and downed it in one go. Then he belched.

Nico sighed. He loved Percy, he really did, but there were times he marveled at how immature Percy was. And he couldn’t even commiserate with Jason because _Jason thought Percy was funny_. And he was, but not all the time. Of course anyone who could be best friends with Leo would find Percy hilarious.

Nico hadn’t known Leo well, and he hadn’t gone out of his way to get to know him while they sailed to the Doors of Death. He wanted to tell Jason, Hazel, and Piper that he hadn’t seen any sign of Leo’s soul in the underworld, but he didn’t dare raise that specter of hope.

Not when he might be wrong.

“He’s had enough,” said Nerites when a server made to refill Percy’s glass. Percy made an outraged sound, more upset with Nerites’s presumption than a desire to drink. Nico had to make an effort not to wonder how far down his chest Percy’s flush went. Nerites turned to glower at Lucifer. “Whatever you’re planning it won’t work. Their fathers will hear about this.”

“I’m certain they already know,” said Lucifer mildly. “I have not broken the treaty, and I don’t intend to harm them. If Zeus moves against me without cause he will be dealing Olympus a far greater injury than even if I did just kill them outright.”

“But, you’re not going to kill us, right?” Percy blurted out, and Lucifer laughed. Percy’s red cheeks flamed even brighter.

“I’m not planning on it,” said the devil, the obvious implication being that he reserved the right to change his mind. “Oh, don’t make that face Nerites, I’m honestly not. As soon as they want to they can leave.”

Jason was leaning over to whisper something to Percy who was scowling hard at this plate. He’d taken Nerites’ words pretty hard and looked more than a little embarrassed at his last outburst. Percy had been in an odd headspace for a while now. Nico had never found out what had been bothering him at the start of their journey, although when he’d asked Jason the other boy had made a face that left Nico thinking he was better off not knowing.

He loved Percy enough to be happy for him, and even when he’d hated her he’d never _really_ hated Annabeth (how could he?) but their relationship would never be a comfortable object of contemplation for him.

“Oh, are they?” Nerites challenged. “What about the rest of us?”

Nerites was not the only immortal who had been captured by the rogue demigods. He’d been caught mostly by accident, taken when he was ‘speaking’ with Hercules who was the true target.

Nico tried not to think about what Nerites and Hercules had most likely been getting up to (about how pretty Nerites would look spread out underneath Hercules, the play of the muscles in Hercules’ back as he covered Nerites with his body, beads of sweat sliding down copper-tan skin moving against pale alabaster--okay! That was enough of that).

The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was an erection.

“Well, that’s a separate matter, isn’t it?” said Lucifer. One of the indistinguishable masked staffers who covered the villa approached him and leaned down to whisper something. Lucifer listened and then smiled.

“As they say, speak of the Devil and he will appear,” said Lucifer as he stood up. “Olympus is prepared to discuss the opening of negotiations for the release of her agents. If you will excuse me.”

Once Lucifer was gone Nerites slumped in his chair. “This is not good.”

“He seems nice… you know, for the Devil,” said Jason and Nerites snorted.

“Don’t let the charm offensive fool you,” he said and then shook his head and stood up. “I have to go see what kind of damage control I can wrangle. Don’t do anything without talking to me—and if anyone talks to you who i _sn’t_ Lucifer be very careful. Especially you, Jason.”

Jason looked concerned and confused, but he nodded. Jason was good like that, he didn’t ask pointless questions. Most of the time. Zeus had a somewhat infamous reputation, and gods all across the world held grudges against him in particular.

Nerites left the room, one of the servers trailing him. Nico didn’t feel any life force coming from the servers, and he wasn’t quite sure what sort of construct they might be. There were quite a number of them, but then again there would have to be. Lucifer’s territory was one of the very few neutral places in the world for immortals. Not many beings exist who could claim and clear a space of their own between Mount Olympus and Mount Meru. Lucifer was one of a handful who maintained a mostly neutral existence, and a safe haven for endling gods amongst others.

“Wow,” said Percy, flopping back in his chair. He looked glassy eyed and had the sleepy quality people get after eating a bunch of good food and drinking fine wine. “So that’s Satan? He seemed pretty cool.”

“Right? I thought so,” said Jason. After the enemy demigods had left, Lucifer had invited them back to his villa. It was the sort of invitation that said “this can happen easy or it can happen hard, but it will happen either way.”

They chose easy. And when they’d arrived Lucifer had sent a message off and within an hour Nerites, Hercules, Briares, Kymopoleia, and several other lesser gods had been freed. Which hadn’t been somewhat terrifying at all. The devil had given them clothing and time to freshen up, and then had invited them out for lunch overlooking the nearly clear turquoise waters of the Mediterranean

Percy’s green eyes tended to mirror the water around him. It was something Nico tried not to spend much time dwelling on, but turquoise turned out to be an exceptionally pretty color on Percy.

“Don’t be fooled,” said Nico. “Just because he’s not a cackling villain doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.”

“Well, yeah, duh,” said Percy. “He’s still a god, or whatever.”

“I can’t believe that both of you knew about the other gods,” said Jason with more than a little pout to his voice, which made Nico grin.

The knowledge of other pantheons was top secret information in Camp Jupiter, right up there with the existence of the Greek camp. Only Praetors were let in on the secret, and only after they had served for long enough. Nico hadn’t known that Percy had met an Egyptian magician, but he should have figured something like that would be the case.

Nico had discovered the existence of other gods when he accidentally shadow-travelled to China, right into the Shanghai Tower, tumbling out of the shadows into a beautifully manicured garden. He’d been lucky, none of the Trimurti happened to be present at the time. In fact the only god in the garden had been Ganesha, who had insisted that he rest and eat before going on his way. They’d had a good long talk and Nico had left a little less angry, although he didn’t stay that way long.

In retrospect it was obvious that Ganesha hadn’t exactly been surprised to see him, although Nico had been too young and naïve to realize that at the time. Later, Hades had told him just how lucky he was, for while Ganesha was a god of no small power he was also a well-respected god, even outside of his pantheon.

Nico had never heard Hades speak of any other gods with anything resembling respect. Love perhaps, but not respect. But he clearly held Ganesha in some form of esteem, and implied that the other Olympians did as well.

“Yeah? Well I can’t believe Chiron lied to me,” groused Percy. “One of the first questions I asked: is there a God? He told me it was a ‘metaphysical’ question, whatever that meant.”

“Yes, you told us,” said Nico dryly and then felt bad when Percy flushed an ugly red that was at least 60% from being somewhat tipsy. “I’m not sure how much he lied to you. When I asked my father he gave me the runaround too, but he implied that whatever God was he’s not around anymore.”

A mollified Percy was a less grumpy Percy, which was good. Lately Nico had entered a superposition of both infinite and zero patience with Percy and his moods. It was a tension their friendship didn’t need, not on top of Percy’s constant touching and misplaced guilt.

Also Nico took a somewhat sardonic pride in being the moody, loner son of Hades. Percy was edging in on his turf with all of his angst. It had absolutely nothing to do with how Nico’s heart ached when Percy was upset, or how Percy’s touch made his body feel things he’d spent years suppressing.

“I think I ate too much,” said Jason with a groan, falling back in his chair. Nico immediately leaned forward and picked up another periwinkle before very slowly and with great care extracting the snail meat from its shell. Jason stared at him, getting progressively greener in the face until he had to turn away. “I hate you so much right now, Di Angelo.”

“Seriously, how can you eat those?” asked Percy, his nose wrinkled in a way that Nico would never admit he found utterly adorable.

“I have a very sophisticated palate,” said Nico as snottily as he could manage and Percy snorted.

“Yeah right, Mr. Happy Meal.” For some reason the way Percy said it made Nico angry.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have a lot of options at the time, now did I?” he snapped and then regretted it because he was 10,000% done with everyone’s pity, _especially_ Percy’s and Jason’s.

Besides, he’d grown up with food like the stuff on the table. Venetian _cichetti_ were just a hop and skip from Spanish _tapas._ And just because he liked good food didn’t mean he couldn’t like cheap burgers and fries. There was a reason everyone in the world ate McDonalds after all.

Instead of snapping at either of them any more, he took a breath and pretended Jason and Percy weren’t a bit tipsy and staring at him like he was gravely injured puppy. “So. What should we do?”

“Water looks pretty nice,” said Percy after a beat and it was true. Despite the storm raging in the rest of the Mediterranean the sea around Lucifer’s villa was sunny and warm. Fresh salt-clean air moved through in a perpetual breeze that kept them cool and comfortable, and the water around them glistened. Near the white fine sand of the beach below them it was completely clear. “Anyone up for a swim?”

Nico had spent a lot of time in the water lately, most of it with Percy being the only thing that stood between him and death by drowning. More swimming was not his idea of a good time.

“I don’t know,” said Jason. “I think we need to get ready.”

“Ready for what?” asked Percy.

“Really, Percy?” asked Nico, “you can’t think of any reason we might want to be preparing for trouble instead of frolicking in the surf?”

Percy scowled at Nico. “No, I guess I can’t because I’m just a ‘dumb idiot’ right? It’s not like the water is probably our best escape route if anything goes wrong and this would give me a good chance to look around.”

Oh. Now Nico felt like an ass. “Sorry.”

“Okay, guys,” said Jason with a clap of his hands, as though he were somehow in charge because he was more mature than Nico or Percy. They traded sympathetic looks of exasperation, as Jason stood up. “Let’s get down to the beach before you bite each other’s heads off.”

“Aw shucks, that sounds like a swell plan, _Dad,_ ” said Percy and Jason flipped him off.

“We don’t have swim suits,” said Nico trying to bite back a smirk.

“Just wear your boxers then,” said Percy, “or even keep your pants on, I’ll dry you off.”

“We should get some sun block,” said Jason.

“Speak for yourself, bro,” said Percy thumping his chest and began making his way down to the beach. “I don’t burn at the beach!”

Jason looked at Nico who shrugged. If Nico actually spent time in the sun his skin would darken right up.

One of the faceless servitors approached them with a small silver platter, on which rested a tube of sunblock. Jason took it with a raised eyebrow at Nico.

“Are you guys coming?” Percy called back to them, already making his way down the beach toward the water. Nico looked at Jason who shrugged and stripped off his shirt.

“Mind helping me get my back?” he asked hopefully. As far as chores went rubbing sunblock onto Jason’s back wasn’t even really a chore. It was a favor for a friend who happened to have a very nice back. Still, it wouldn’t do for people to think they could just start asking him for favors all the time. So Nico sighed dramatically and made Jason plead a little before he gave in, just to keep his rep up, and tried to ignore the faceless, silent menace of Lucifer’s lurking servitors.


	13. Chapter 13

Olympus – The Throne Room

_The gods hold themselves above humanity, and thus they have none_

_This is the age of men as gods_

Will

This was all a bit much, Will thought in a daze. He wished the gods had let someone come with him, but Mr. D had just grabbed his shoulder and after the world finished running like hot wax Will had been standing in the throne room of Olympus.

It was his first time being in the throne room and all the other Olympian gods were there except Artemis, and his father, of course.

“Excellent,” said Zeus and Mr. D’s hand tightened on Will’s shoulder as the king of Olympus strode toward them. “What now, Dionysus?”

“You know that Athena’s girl has already left to retrieve Daedalus’s infernal device,” said Mr. D and Will watched in awe as Aphrodite rolled her eyes at the non-mention of her daughter. “We should delay for a while.”

“Every moment we delay is a moment we are vulnerable,” said Athena.

“If you’re getting squeamish then take a hike,” added Ares and Will stiffened. He didn’t want Mr. D to leave. He wasn’t the most comforting presence, but he was all Will had at the moment.

“Don’t test me right now, Ares,” said Mr. D and the air around Will grew thick with power. He smelled growing things, cut grass just after a rain, and his heart was beating faster and faster and faster--

“Dionysus!” Demeter flicked Dionysus’s hand off Will and his clarity returned. “The boy isn’t on Apollo’s throne yet, you can’t just throw your weight around willy-nilly. And Ares mark my words mister you need to learn to watch your mouth or I’ll start watching it for you.”

Will’s eyes could have double as dinner plates they were so wide. Ares was red in the face and looked about ready to spontaneously combust. Athena and Poseidon were both doing a poor job of hiding their amusement.

“It is rather unbecoming, darling,” said Aphrodite and was she reading a fashion magazine? Yes, yes she was. “And tiresome.”

Ares subsided, slinking back to his throne in a sulk. Will almost missed the raised eyebrow Zeus exchanged with Hera’s shrug, the silent communication as if they were just an old married couple and not all-powerful gods.

“A little thin aren’t you? Probably not exercising enough or eating right. All you demigods could use a good meal and a few months planting and harvesting in the fields. Hard labor with quality, organic whole grains, fresh vegetables and fruit, all with lots of fiber to keep you regular, that’ll treat you right,” said Demeter and Will didn’t even put up with this kind of thing from his grandmother, although he supposed she technically _was_ his great-aunt. Or something. “Well, boy? Do you talk? Are you deaf? Is he deaf?”

Demeter began to sign rapidly at him and Will managed to finally stammer out “Uh, no. I mean, no I’m not deaf, Lady Demeter.”

 She rapped him on the head with her painfully bony knuckles. “Well then speak up sooner next time! Are we certain there’s nothing wrong him? He seems a bit slow.”

“Stop harassing the boy, Sister,” said Hera as she came forward. She tipped Will’s face up by his chin and looked at him searchingly. Her eyes filled his world as though he could see nothing else. “Apollo was never exactly the swiftest of us, and the boy does bear an uncanny resemblance to him. He is a fine choice, Dionysus. Tell me, Will, do you understand what we are asking of you?”

Will swallowed, the sound loud as thunder in his ears and the expectant silence of the room. The gods were looking at him, he knew, but Hera was staring down into his eyes. The mother of the gods, the queen of Olympus, didn’t just command his attention, she filled it. There was no room for anything else.

“Yes, I do,” he said, his mouth dry and his voice cracking halfway through.

“Very good,” she said and released his chin. “Hermes, be a dear and let Hecate know we’re ready. Hephaestus, is the chair prepared?”

“It’s been reset,” said Hephaestus gruffly as Zeus threw up his hands as if to say ‘hello, King of Olympus here? Anyone remember who’s in charge? Anyone at all?’

Hera ignored her husband and pushed Will over to his father’s throne. All the other thrones looked very… personalized. But Apollo’s throne was simple, made of clean straight lines out of snow-white marble with a towering back crowned by a stylized relief of the sun. Maybe that’s what Hephaestus meant by a reset, because he couldn’t imagine that it always looked like this.

“When you take your seat the throne will reshape itself as the Mist aligns with your substance,” said Hephaestus by way of explanation.

“Hephaestus!” snapped Zeus. “Are none of you capable of the least bit of discretion?”

“Feh,” Hephaestus grumbled as Hera loudly took issue with her husband’s words. But he didn’t explain anything else either, just directed Will where to stand and not to sit before he was told.

A flash of light heralded the return of Hermes, and a moment later the great door to the throne room opened. In came Hecate, walking gracefully with an orange cupped in her hand. The smell of it wafted across the room, flooding the air. Will had never seen such a vibrantly orange-colored orange before, he could almost taste it, cool and refreshing citrus on his tongue. He swallowed nervously.

“The Golden Mother of the Shining Lake sends her regards, my lady,” said Hecate as she offered the fruit to Hera. Hera took the fruit with a smile but Zeus looked furious.

“And what treachery is this?” he shouted and the world shook. Will knew that if Hephaestus hadn’t shifted just then to protect him, then the force of Zeus’s bellowing would have obliterated him.

“What have I said about using an indoor voice young man?” demanded Demeter and Zeus closed his eyes looking pained for a moment. Hades didn’t bother to hide his amusement, Poseidon at least covered his mouth.

“Demeter, I may be your youngest brother, but I am _also_ your _eldest_ brother _and your king._ And if you don’t cut off the meddling mother-in-law routine I promise you that I will not be held responsible for my actions!”

Demeter’s eyes narrowed and she seemed to straighten up, to grow taller and a bit younger, but not much. She didn’t look like a middle aged housewife anymore, she looked like agelessly beautiful royalty.

“As you wish, Zeus,” she said and her voice was cold, the kind of coldness to be expected from a goddess who would have gladly let the world die when her daughter went missing. Zeus looked exasperated but decided to forge ahead and turned back to Hera.

“Explain yourself!” Hera’s narrowed eyes indicated she did not appreciate such a tone.

“It was my idea, my lord,” said Hecate, stepping in and inclining her head just enough to be respectful. “Our golden apples are aligned on the same axis of existence as the rest of Olympus. I thought that one of the lesser fruit from the other end of the axis might make the inevitable separation… easier.”

“It’s harmless, Zeus,” said Hera. “The Golden Mother thinks she’s above our ‘lesser’ conflicts. It would sully her reputation to try and entrap us with a gift.”

“Frigid bitch,” murmured Ares, and then practically wilted as every goddess in the room turned their scornful attention toward him.

“Perhaps you could have Ares return the fruit, if it offends you so much,” offered Hades and Hephaestus rumbled with laughter.

“I am so pleased you find this humorous, Brother,” said Zeus and Hades shrugged guilelessly. Will wanted to speak up, but these were the gods. You didn’t talk back to the gods, no one did.

Except maybe Percy Jackson, but even Will had to admit he was a special case.

(For one thing the guy clearly lacked any meaningful survival instincts.)

“Can we get this show on the road?” asked Hermes. “I’ve got a backlog of deliveries with everything that’s going on and I need to be on hand to sort it out.”

“Yes, this is taking rather more time than I had allocated,” said Athena folding her hands in her lap.

Zeus harrumphed but grabbed the orange from Hera’s hand and strode over to Will. The king of the gods did not look pleased, and the air bent around him as if his sheer presence had grown too heavy for the fabric of reality to bear.

All of the gods were powerful, but the Olympians were the greatest of the gods. And of them the greatest god was Zeus. This was being brought home to Will far more clearly than he had ever wanted as Zeus bore down on him.

“If everyone would please take your seats,” said Hecate and the rest of the gods sat upon their thrones, with Hecate taking Artemis’s. Zeus stood before Will, towering over him, the orange in his hand shimmering with what looked like heat.

“Prepare yourself, Will Solace,” said Zeus, one large powerful hand landing on Will’s shoulder. With the other he pushed the orange into Will’s hands. It was the size of a grapefruit, and it thrummed against his palms in time with a beating heart.

“The sun has set,” intoned Zeus.

“The sun has set,” repeated the rest of the gods. Will could barely breathe.

“Let the sun rise again!” commanded Zeus and as the other gods repeated him he shoved Will back down onto Apollo’s throne.

The world fill with fire. Will was burning up, the power was destroying him piece by piece as it scorched through him. It hurt worse than anything ever had before, and he screamed. A hand pressed the fruit up to his open mouth and forced him to bite into it. The skin was bitter but sweet juice spilled over his tongue and for a moment the flood of power and pain eased.

He tore into the fruit, heedless of the mess or the thick bitter skin, just desperate to get at more of the sweet flesh that made the pain fade. Pulp and juice streamed down his hands and arm, carving little paths of relief through his skin. Two hands made the juice drip everywhere as he sucked the succulent flesh dry, scraping the peel with his teeth to get every last bit.

When he finished he was breathing hard, but not shaking. There was no more pain. His father’s power was now his.

It felt _amazing._

Will raised his hand and stared at it. Every little detail was illuminated so that he could see through his skin, see the tree roots that were his veins spreading in the soil of his muscles, see the unyielding pale columns that were his bones.

With a gesture he could burn a city to the ground. At his word reality would reshape itself to his whim, he could pluck it like a guitar string and have it play any melody he desired. All around him unearthly music danced just outside of hearing, as if haunting him with the shapes of songs yet to be sung.

After a moment he realized it was the Mist he was perceiving. He did not see through it, rather he saw the Mist as yet another layer of the reality that was. His world had been enlightened and all the strata and substance of creation had been laid bare before him.

“Excellent,” said Zeus taking a step back, and Will realized that he could _see Zeus’s true form_. It was concealed, all the gods’ were, but Will was now aware of it, of those huge glowing souls inside their physical vessels, all tied to an even greater light in their thrones, burning like stars. “Now, since some of you are so anxious to be about your business, Hermes?”

At a nod from Zeus, Hecate vanished from Artemis’s throne.

Hermes cleared his throat, produced a touch pad and started reading. “The Morningstar has confirmed that he rescued all of the gods found at the site and they are all currently guests at his villa. He wants certain assurances in exchange for facilitating their ‘continued care and safe release.’ Briares and Asclepius were said to have been severely injured, and he claims they cannot be moved without risk of further harm.”

Asclepius? Will sat up straighter at the mention of Apollo’s most famous son.

“He attempts to force our hand,” said Athena.

“We could simply negotiate passage with Mount Meru,” said Poseidon, and he sounded as though he was making an old argument. “It is within the bounds of the treaty.”

“We shall not seek permission to reclaim what is ours,” said Zeus drawing himself up, every inch a king. “The Morningstar’s ransom is all the right we need. We shall dispatch a representative.”

“Not informing the Trimurti is a calculated insult,” said Hades as though he didn’t particularly care one way or the other, but still felt obligated to share the information. “Shiva will react accordingly, and Vishnu will not deny him. They cannot risk Lucifer allying with us.”

“Lucifer?” someone shrieked. Will realized a second later when all the gods turned to stare at him that it had been him. They were silent as they stared at him, and in the hush he could hear the low thrum of power from the other thrones.

“Lucifer? As in Satan? As in _the Devil_?” asked Will. Hades was smirking and Aphrodite wasn’t paying attention, but the rest of the gods were stern and forbidding looking.

“Yes,” said Zeus finally.

“Does—does that mean God is real?” asked Will and to his surprise Zeus laughed. It was not a joyful laugh.

“Yes, God is real,” said Zeus with a wry look. “Or he was. But do not be overly concerned with Yahweh and his corpse, his children are headache enough.”

“Corpse? Children?” squeaked Will. Did that mean other angels? And what did that mean that God was dead? Will had a feeling Zeus wasn’t being metaphorical or alluding to any philosophy, it sounded quite literal. But gods couldn’t die. They could fade, but only if they chose to. And if there was one god who would be resistant to fading, you’d think it would be the most worshipped god on the planet.

But apparently the gods were done acknowledging his presence.

“You may depart if you do not wish to debate who should speak with the Morningstar,” said Zeus and Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Demeter all vanished.

Athena was looking pointedly at Ares who snarled at her. “What?”

“Surprised, I suppose.”

“I have a bone to pick with one of the Lightbringer’s dogs,” growled Ares.

“If you think for even a moment that I am letting you anywhere near that island you are severely deluded,” said Zeus, and he sounded almost amused. “Hades?”

“What?” asked Hades. Will hadn’t taken much time to examine Nico’s father. He could see the resemblance and wondered what Nico would look like when he’d made it through puberty. He was already super cute, but would he grow into being handsome as well?

Will was looking forward to finding out, if he didn’t die from this. Although the way he was feeling now that seemed like an impossibility. How could he die when he was so flush with power?

As long as he stayed on the chair that is, but he wouldn’t be able to move Mr. D had told him, so he wasn’t very concerned. He was a counterweight, and if the rogue demigods tried to extract his father’s power through his powerless avatar, then Will would have to anchor it.

And possibly die in the attempt. That was neat.

“How you doing, kid?” asked Mr. D gruffly as the other gods argued. Zeus wanted Hades to go to talk Lucifer and Hades was taking it as an insult, which Zeus took as an insult in turn because in his mind it was a gesture of respect. Poseidon and Athena had instantly fallen to squabbling when they both tried to play mediator at the same time, and Ares had made the grave, _grave_ error of being insolent to Hera.

 “Oh, you know.” Will cleared his throat and tried to offer up a brave smile as the gods shouted like ballistic missiles exploding in the background. “Pretty good, all things considered.”

Mr. D snorted, but he looked almost amused. Will had never gotten Mr. D to crack a smile before, it was actually very satisfying.

“Hephaestus should be back soon with something to keep you company,” said Mr. D. So he didn’t get bored sitting on his father’s throne, he didn’t say. Will appreciated the gesture. To the other gods he might just be a tool, but having Mr. D around was almost as reassuring as having his dad around.

“If Hades doesn’t want to go then I’ll go,” Poseidon was saying. “I’d like to check in on Percy anyway.”

“And you think I don’t wish to see my son?” snarled Hades and then stopped and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You’re manipulating me.”

“Little bit,” said Poseidon holding up his fingers to indicate just how much. Hades barked a short, sardonic laugh.

“Very well, Zeus. I’ll play courier for you and the Morningstar,” said Hades.

“I am not asking you to play courier, you…” Zeus mastered himself. “You would be authorized to make decisions on behalf of Olympus. If I cannot send myself or Hera it must be one of you two. Anything less will be seen as an insult by the damn Lightbringer.”

Hades didn’t look mollified, but he lost his angry edge as he considered his brother’s words. Ares grunted in displeasure and vanished.

“Nico and them were captured by Satan?” asked Will urgently, leaning out precariously as far as he could on the edge of the throne’s seat. “Do they need help?”

“No, the boys are fine,” said Poseidon with a little smile twitching on his lips. “I daresay they’re enjoying Lucifer’s hospitality, everyone else does.”

Hera made a derisive sound. “And does Amphitrite know you’re still coddling her younger brother?”

 “Yes.” Poseidon now looked decidedly un-amused, although Athena was clearly enjoying the proceedings.

“Enough, Hera,” said Zeus with a sigh. “If there is nothing else?”

Just then Hephaestus popped into existence beside Will carrying what looked like an iPad. Will was so startled he jumped and lost his balance.

And tumbled off Apollo’s throne.

The sun went out.

Inside of Will a new sun dawned.


	14. Chapter 14

The Labyrinth – Daedalus’s Workshop

_The secret chiefs of the world are liars and schemers. Some cancers cannot be cut away – they must be burned out_

_This is the rightful fate of the world_

Piper

“Jason can be a little… buttoned up. And I love that about him, I really do. But sometimes it’s fun to poke the bear, you know?”

“Not really,” said Annabeth wryly. “Since Percy’s bear is perpetually poked I’m usually aiming in the opposite direction.”

From around the corner came another crash, and then a loud roar.

“Ouch,” said Rachel with an appreciative wince. She was the only one watching the unfolding carnage around the corner.

“Is Nanny done yet?’ called Oya as she oiled and polished her machete. She and Nanabozho (Nanny’s true name) had been trading off killing the monsters on their way to Daedalus’ workshop. Oya was graceful, her every move an economy of skilled violence, watching her was almost like watching a dancer. Watching Nanabozho fight was unsettling. They moved from shape to shape so fast that Piper’s stomach rebelled against the sight. To go from biting as a viper, to raking with tiger claws, and goring with boar tusks all in the space of a few seconds with all the attendant changes was difficult to watch without feeling queasy.

Unless, apparently, you were the Virgin Oracle of Delphi.

“Almost,” said Rachel. “Only one more Cyclops left—and there we go.”

“Finally,” grunted Oya as she levered herself up and sheathed her machete. “Let’s be off.”

The next room was a mess. Claw marks gouged into the stone, broken furniture everywhere, and what looked like acid had eaten away at most of a load bearing wall (Annabeth had been teaching her practical architecture, as in which parts of buildings to hit if you needed to bring them down). Nanabozho was doing some stretching beside the rapidly evaporating corpse of a very large Cyclops.

“Took your sweet time, didn’t you Nanabozho?” groused Oya and Nanabozho just grinned their mischievous grin. Annabeth had told her that Nanabozho was a trickster god of magic and writing, and historically was fairly benevolent. So Piper was on her guard, because you had to be with tricksters, but not hostile. And since Oya was a warrior goddess known for her protection of women, accepting their offer of help had been mostly a no-brainer.

It was rarely wise to refuse gifts from the gods.

“The workroom should be just up ahead,” said Rachel.

“Excellent,” said Oya, “And once you have found what you are looking for we can return to hunting Enoch and his nephilim.”

Piper had never been a particularly religious person, her heritage not withstanding. She’d grown up listening to Grandpa Tom’s stories, but that wasn’t the same as religion. She hadn’t believed and then she’d found proof, and there was no faith to be found in that.

 The point was Piper didn’t know much about Christianity, or even any major religion, beyond the basics. Annabeth had told her that Enoch was an apocryphal figure (Piper had forgone asking what that meant) and was related to Noah and also was possibly an angel?

Because angels were real.

That was a thing.

It had been quite the eventful day, and Piper had lived through a number of eventful days.

“This way,” said Rachel and they set off. “We’re getting close.”

“Your seer is very talented,” said Oya to Piper as she fell into step beside her. “The Olympian practice of drawing oracles from pure mortals is one of the few worth emulating.”

And then there was that. The little barbs. Nanabozho and Oya most emphatically did not care for Piper and Annabeth’s parents, or any of the Olympian gods. Piper wasn’t exactly sure how it all worked, but she had a feeling that if there were only two pantheons in charge of the planet that something had happened to the others.

Knowing gods as Piper did, she had a fair guess as to what that was.

“She can also paint with her feet,” said Annabeth a bit tartly, and Piper had to admit she loved it when Annabeth unsheathed her claws. Partially because she was just so good at it, but also because even though she might deny it, Percy’s refusal to be cowed by anything had rubbed off on her. Except Annabeth wasn’t thoughtless about it.

Silently, Piper asked Percy to forgive her, but really, without Annabeth around to rein him in he could be downright dumb sometimes. She hoped Jason didn’t have his hands too full with him and Nico. Jason had an almost saintly stockpile of patience (don’t think about Leo don’t think about Leo) inside of him, but there were limits.

“No way,” said Nanabozho looking delighted. “Rachel, can you paint with your feet?”

“Yep,” she said. “I’ve gotten pretty good at it too. Probably gonna be a selling point someday.”

Without needing to avoid monsters their route had become much more direct, and since each time the gods went out to do battle the three of them got to sit and rest, Rachel was making much better progress.

Piper had never paused to appreciate how her lifestyle kept her fit and healthy—except for the ever-present danger of violent injury of course. Probably wasn’t very conducive to good health to keep putting yourself in situations where you might not come out intact, or even alive.

The wrecked stone tunnel slowly transformed into a brick boulevard. Instead of trees lining it though there were very odd, tall mushrooms, speckled in every possible shade of red. They glowed, pulsing like a series of hearts beating in time.

“Pasiphae really did a number on the Labyrinth,” murmured Annabeth.

“Yes, she’s a rather middling talent for a daughter of the Titans,” said Nanabozho with a sly look. “Her sister, Circe, is much more adept, as you know.”

Annabeth pursed her lips, and through her indignation Piper had to admire Nanabozho’s ability to unerringly seek out sore spots. Maybe it was a trickster thing. Grandpa Tom had told her enough stories about Coyote for Piper to be more than wary of tricksters.

“Be nice, Nanny,” said Oya and Nanabozho rolled their eyes and walked up to join Rachel. “I apologize, Nanny lost more than most of us to your parents’ pantheon.”

“I’m sorry,” said Piper honestly.

“You have nothing to apologize for, child,” said Oya. “You have also lost more than most as well, more than you even know. The old stories are being caught in amber thanks to mortal technology, but they are still fading. Few of us are strong enough to truly call ourselves gods these days.”

Piper was saved from trying to find a reply other than more apologizing by Rachel calling for them. They had arrived at the workshop.

 

* * *

 

The workshop was… something of a mess.

No, that didn’t quite do it justice.

To start with, the workshop looked like someone had burned down a china shop after the bull was done with it, and then a tornado came through that. Literally everything that could be broken in the workshop had been broken. In that respect the workshop was a disaster area. Broken bits of machinery, torn, burnt scraps of complex blueprints, pieces of furniture, and a hundred more things Piper couldn’t even identify in the piles of wreckage.

Now the reason it was only something of a mess was that someone, most likely several someone’s, had come through and sorted all the debris into piles by type. Immaculate piles in such perfect order it was hard to believe they weren’t constrained in some invisible, perfect cylinder. And they’d cleaned the floors between the piles so that they shone, every tile polished even if it had been cracked in two.

And even if Piper couldn’t tell the bits of debris were, Annabeth and Nanabozho seemed to know. And they did not look happy as they examined the room.

“There’s nothing here,” said Annabeth sadly and Piper moved to her side. “If it wasn’t destroyed it was definitely taken.”

“We’ll figure something out,” she said. They wouldn’t let Will die. They’d hadn’t saved the world just to start losing people.

Annabeth took Piper’s hand and gave her a grin that said she wasn’t done yet. “Lord Nanabozho, Lady Oya, can you tell us how recently this chamber was last visited?”

“Recently,” said Oya as Nanabozho shifted into the form of a wrinkled old bloodhound. The moment they completed the shift they transformed back.

“It’s a trap!” shouted Nanabozho.

Out of the floors and walls crawled Nephilim like alligators lurching up from the muck.

Piper drew her short sword and quickly maneuvered so she and Annabeth were covering Rachel.

“I’ll cover you,” barked Oya and leapt at the nearest nephilim. She sheared it in half and it exploded into gray glittering dust.

“Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary.” Piper had a chance to look up and see Enoch in the doorway, nephilim spilling in behind him, an endless gray horde.

“Well, this has been fun,” said Nanabozho in a rushed voice as the nephilim circled them. “Oya, I’ll be sure to tell Crow that the Golden Mother is on board. Ladies, may we meet again soon.”

With a little flourish of a bow Nanabozho transformed into a wisp of smoke and vanished up through a crack in the wall.

“Nanabozho, you traitorous shit!” shouted Oya as she broke the impossibly long arm of another nephilim and then cut it down. “Get back here!”

“What a surprise, betrayed by a trickster,” said Enoch. The nephilim were focused on Oya but they had cut off the exits and were slowly herding Piper, Annabeth, and Rachel toward Enoch. “I’m certain _that’s_ never happened before.”

Piper traded raised eyebrows with Annabeth and Rachel. It wasn’t often that the enemy was sassy.

“So, any secret passages out of here?” Piper asked her companions. The nephilim hadn’t attacked them yet, mostly concerned with overwhelming the warrior goddess currently cutting them down in droves.

“Not that I can see,” said Rachel.

“Daedalus wouldn’t work in a space he couldn’t escape from,” said Annabeth. “But it’s been years since he controlled the Labyrinth. If we had the laptop…”

“So, we make a break for it,” said Piper conversationally, as though the nephilim weren’t slowly overpowering Oya enough that some were beginning to advance on the three of them. “Pick a door, ladies.”

“West side of the room,” said Rachel. “The Moroccan arch. We can lose them in the hallways beyond it.”

There were about 10 nephilim between them and Rachel’s door.

“Piper, can you scream and sprint?” asked Annabeth.

“Yeah, but not that far,” she said. Screaming in charmspeak was a weapon of last resort because it would affect everyone. Annabeth and Piper had gone to the Hephaestus cabin to see if they could create some sort of selective hearing aid, but there hadn’t been time before they’d left to find the laptop.

“You two go for it, I’ve got an idea,” said Annabeth and shifted her sword to her other hand so she could fish something out of her backpack’s side pockets.

“I’m sorry, girls, I don’t mean to ignore you,” said Enoch over his shoulder to them. “Rest assured, I’ll be wanting to speak with you once I’m finished here.”

“Flee, young ones!” cried Oya as she wrenched herself free from the grip of a nephilim to kill it. She hadn’t even drawn back her hand from its corpse when two more lunged at her. “I shall hold the line.”

“That’d be our cue,” said Rachel.

Piper didn’t want to leave Oya to fight alone. Oya and even Nanabozho had been far nicer than any other gods she’d ever met. More human and almost considerate—at least for gods. Not even her mother had been so nice to her. Piper didn’t doubt that Aphrodite loved her, but she had no illusions about her either.

Oya had treated them like they were more than little stories that lived to entertain her.

Staying to fight, unfortunately, wasn’t an option.

“Rachel, lighter,” said Annabeth as she twisted something around in her hands.

“Here,” said Rachel and handed Annabeth a beautiful etched silver lighter.

“Thanks,” said Annabeth. She lit whatever fuse she’d been fiddling with and stood up. “Okay, on three.”

The nephilim had overpowered Oya, although it took nearly a dozen of the giants to hold her down on her knees. Enoch touched her forehead and she froze. The nephilim released her and stepped back. Oya didn’t move so much as slump, like her weight was being supporting by Enoch’s fingers against her forehead..

“Three!” shouted Annabeth and they ran for the door. The nephilim were strong and fast, but Piper and Annabeth had been in near perfect sync ever since their encounter with Phobos and Deimos. It helped that Rachel somehow managed to always be just a finger’s length out of reach whenever the nephilim grabbed at her.

Oracle powers. Must be nice.

They had nearly made it to the door when—well the best way Piper had to describe it was that reality _flexed_ , as if everything in existence became more tangible for a moment, and then there was a feeling like the universe lost some sort of ballast and like a boat was pitching about.

“I pronounce you _tohu vavohu_ , without form and void,” said Enoch as to Piper’s horror Oya crumbled into gray, powdery dust. Something began to gleam between Enoch’s fingers after Oya died, and he smiled at it.

“How fortuitous,” he said and pulled out a little pouch to put the shimmering shard in.

In the moment of confusion from Oya’s death the nephilim had surrounded them. Piper cleared her throat, taking shallow breaths to flood herself with oxygen like Annabeth had taught her. The scream wouldn’t buy them much time, at least if Piper left with them.

So she didn’t plan to. Annabeth would hesitate, but not long, and she and Rachel would escape. They had to escape. If Annabeth didn’t find the laptop then Will was as good as dead, and she needed Rachel to navigate the Labyrinth.

Piper was expendable, and there was no time to explain.

“Go!” gasped Piper and ran past her friends. They caught up quickly and as Piper inhaled to scream they pulled ahead, just like she’d planned.

She screamed. The nephilim staggered and collapsed like a horde of puppets whose strings were all just snipped. That… had been easier than she expected.

Piper inhaled sharply as she ran and the nephilim immediately jumped back up. She screamed again but her lungs and legs were burning and she only lasted a few seconds this time.

“Children should be seen, not heard,” said Enoch and gestured.

The door they were running towards sealed up until not a trace of it existed.

One of the nephilim grabbed Piper, its fingers like iron bands digging into her shoulder.

“Shut your eyes!” called Annabeth. Piper closed them as hard as she could and was glad she did. Something exploded so brightly Piper still felt she was staring into the sun even with her eyes closed.

 Enoch was screaming and then someone grabbed her wrist—it felt like Rachel (no sword fighting calluses). Piper couldn’t see a thing, but Rachel pulled her along with perfect confidence as if the blinding light didn’t bother her one bit--

Oh. Very nice, Annabeth. Piper really loved having a brainiac for a best friend.

They careened into a hallway and Piper opened her eyes warily.

“This way,” said Rachel and they ran after her, ducking and weaving through doors and halls and caves until Rachel couldn’t run anymore and the sounds of pursuit had faded away.

“Oh God,” gasped Rachel clutching her side, she made to sit down but Annabeth pulled her up.

“Don’t sit. You can lean but you’ll feel better if you move around a little too,” she said and Rachel nodded, still breathing hard.

“So, what do we do now?” asked Piper as she took stock of their surroundings. They were in a large 6-sided room. Covering the floor was a thick, dingy carpet that combined with the stucco ceiling and pale concrete walls to make the room extremely beige, except for the doors. Each door was a bright, almost glowing pastel. The door they had come through was green.

“We should find a water source and call in,” said Annabeth after a moment to catch her breath. “There are too many unknowns ahead, and the gods need to know what’s going on down here.”

“Good plan,” said Piper. “I like it.”

Annabeth grinned at her, bloody but unbowed.

“Okay, let’s get going then,” said Rachel and shoved herself off the wall.

“We have some time,” said Annabeth. “I ignited a pile of catalytic converters with Greek fire, it’s going to burn for a while and it’s going to burn ugly.”

“You said I should keep moving, so we might as well,” said Rachel as she straightened up.

“We can walk slowly,” Piper suggested. “Save our energy for when we need it.”

“Fine by me,” said Rachel looking at the doors. “I don’t know how to find water directly, but I can find us the nearest exit.”

“Let’s go,” said Annabeth.

“This one,” said Rachel, pointing at the red pastel door. They followed her to the door. Piper took the time to check her weapon and gear. Travelling light meant they kept most everything on them, so only the sleeping mats had been left behind.

It wouldn’t be the first time Piper and Annabeth had slept on the ground. She wasn’t sure about Rachel, who was the only other person at camp who could rival Piper for family finances (actually her dad was probably much wealthier, Piper’s dad was just a movie star after all). But Rachel had, as Piper observed earlier, been a trooper so far and she didn’t imagine it would be a problem.

Rachel opened the door and they all stopped short to stare at a trio of young men on the other side, clearly ready to open the door. One was pretty and dark skinned, another was tall, blond, and handsome, and the last one…

Pale skin, black hair streaked red and blue, small gauges in his ears.

It was the boy Nico had been talking with before they left Montauk.

“What the fuck?” asked the blond boy and it broke the stillness. Piper pulled Rachel back as Annabeth kicked the door shut. They both pulled back from the entry as the door burst open, and the blond boy exploded into the room and then looked around bewildered when he didn’t see them.

“Sky you idiot!” called one of the others, and Sky turned around. He locked eyes with Piper just as Annabeth slid behind him wrenching one of his arms back and putting her blade to his throat.

“What the fuck!” he shouted

“Come out slowly, with your hands behind your head,” said Annabeth, and her voice was calm and cold and gave no hint of pity. When there was no suggestion of movement beyond the doorway she pressed the edge of her blade to Sky’s throat. “Don’t test me.”

Piper would be lying if Annabeth being all cool and deadly wasn’t a little titillating. She drew her dagger and waited for the others to come out.

Moving carefully the other two boys came out, the pretty slender one and Tanner, if that was his real name (Piper doubted it).

“On your knees, and hands stay behind your head,” said Annabeth and when they both kneeled she added, “not so close together. Piper?”

Piper walked over to ‘Tanner’ and swiftly bound his wrist with some zip-strips.

“ _What were you doing in Montauk?_ ” she demanded.

“Laying a tracking spell on that little faggot,” he said and Piper had to take a deep breath so she didn’t start beating up a bound prisoner.

“Are you serious right now, Sun?” asked the pretty one, his slight lisp and utterly disdainful look painting a pretty complete picture. Sun colored right up and Sky laughed (carefully) at him.

“Dude who are you trying to fool? I literally caught you last night bent over a stump while Love was--” Sky began.

“FUCK YOU HUGO!” shouted Sun and a burst of light and heat hit Piper, making her stumble back. Sky and Annabeth stumbled as well, and her blade slipped enough to make his throat weep tears of blood.

Sun staggered to his feet intent on Sky. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you piece of shit.”

“ _Stop it.”_ Piper’s muscles locked, apparently as did everyone else’s. The pretty boy stood up and dusted off his hands. “Honestly, T, I thought you were doing better than this. Grandfather would be so disappointed to see you right now.”

The pretty boy walked over to Sun and touched him gently on the arm. The zip-strips on his arm turned into little white flower petals and drifted away. Sun was shaking now, staring straight ahead but seeing nothing.

“You’re burning up, sweetheart,” said the pretty boy and then whispered something else in what might have been French. It was hard to make out at a distance. Sun shuddered and his eyes closed as if in pain.

Out of the corner of her eye Piper saw Rachel move. No matter how hard Piper struggled she couldn’t even wiggle her ears, but Rachel could clearly move, albeit slowly.

“Love, stop, please,” pleaded Sun as Love drew him close, resting his head on Love’s collar.

“You need to learn to let go,” said Love as he stroked up and down Sun’s spine. “ _Sky_.”

At his name the blond boy sagged and then stiffened with a curse as he cut himself on Annabeth’s sword. “Love, bro, a little help here?”

“ _Let him go_ ,” said Love without looking up, and Annabeth stepped back. Her eyes were wide and scared and Piper could sympathize. Because this wasn’t charmspeak; it went far beyond gentle compulsion. It was total control, absolute power over another person.

This power didn’t come from love, it came from obsession. And neither of them could do a thing about it.

Piper locked eyes with Rachel, and flicked them to the door. Rachel stood the best chance of escape now, and the best chance to find them again if she found help.

“Ah, man, I’m totally leaking hardcore,” complained Sky as he dabbed at his neck. Love just kept stroking Sun’s back until he slowly stopped trembling. Sky turned to glower at Annabeth. “Bitch.”

He shoved Annabeth and she toppled over, limbs still locked up like a statue.

Piper marked Sky as the first one to be taken out.

“So, what do we do with them?” asked Sky. “They’re Greeks, right? Should we bring them to Grandfather?”

“Well,” said Love looking at Rachel with narrowed eyes. “At least those two are. That one feels different. Grandfather might be interested in her.”

Sky turned to look at Piper. He smiled slowly and Piper knew from that smile she had to get free _right now_.

Every one of the doors burst open and nephilim flooded into the room.


	15. Chapter 15

Ibiza – Club Sitra

_Once you are marked by fate there is no escape--the old magic cannot be erased_

_There is no way of cleaning that stain_  

Percy

Percy really did not care for the pants Nerites had laid out for him. He’d never worn skinny jeans before, and had resolved never to wear them again after this was over. The restriction of easy movement alone gave him misgivings, in his life he couldn’t afford not to be maneuverable at any given moment. Also, they were far tighter on certain… regions than Percy was used to.

Still, the look Nico had given him had been pretty validating. Maybe Annabeth would like them because Nico certainly had. He’d stared long enough that even Percy had noticed for one.

Jason bro-slapping his ass to make the situation less awkward had been somewhat less welcome attention, especially since Jason got to wear a looser cut for his pants and Percy’s butt stung for like a solid fives minute since Jason never held back with him. Which also meant he had to act like he didn’t feel it.

Someday he was going to slap Jason on the ass so hard—a day when he wasn’t expecting it. Until then Percy would bide his time.

Nerites had gone nerd-hipster chic with Jason, so he was wearing a paisley bowtie and checkered shirt, which normally Percy would have mocked him mercilessly for, because on top of the brightly colored pants and glasses? Totally ridiculous.

The problem with that was Jason looked ridiculously good. He could actually pull off stylish, whereas Percy just felt kind of slutty in too tight pants and a shirt with an obnoxiously low cut neck.

Nico wore black as usual, but a slightly dressed up black. Black trousers, black t-shirt, stylishly trim black leather jacket, and the only splash of color was where his shirt would ride up, and the bottom of his big silver belt buckle would peak out. Someone had polished his boots for him, and Nerites had done his hair (that had been amazing to watch, Percy had never seen someone bully Nico into doing something through sheer bloody-mindedness). To be fair, Nerites had done his and Jason's hair too, but they hadn't tried to resist. 

“Remember,” Nerites told them. “You can only eat or drink things you take for yourself. If anyone offers you something don’t take it, even if they look mortal.”

Percy didn’t think he would be doing any drinking. Lunch earlier that day had been a bit embarrassing later when he’d sobered up. But he’d never had wine before, how was he to know what was too much? Gabe had only ever drunk cheap beer and occasionally cheap whisky, wine was fruity and snobbish according to him, which was part of why Percy had tried it. Also, Lucifer had implied it was a very expensive bottle and when was the next time Percy would get to try something like that? He hadn't meant to have too much!

Stupid Jason had been drinking too but _he_ didn’t make an ass of himself.

“Is this whole island just one big party?” asked Jason as he peered out the tinted windows of their SUV at people drunk in the streets pouring out of bars and dance clubs.

“Essentially,” said Nerites. He was texting again, and Percy wished he had a phone. He wanted to call his mom. He’d tried Iris Messaging Annabeth earlier but she’d been out of range of service, which worried him. He knew Annabeth could take care of herself, and quests didn’t stop for any demigods, but he still worried.

And he also kind of wanted to take a pic of them, because whatever else Nerites might be he was fashion savvy and they were a damn good looking trio. Nerites himself looked so fashionable it almost came over as tasteless, not that Percy knew anything about fashion but his outfit seemed really busy. Lots of colors and shapes, most of them verging on clashing if not doing so outright.

They pulled up into a line of cars, and the masked servitor in the front got out and came back to open the door for them. Outside the air was cool but not cold, and Percy could hear bass thumping inside the imposing dark square of a building before them.

There was a line. Oh was there ever a line. It stretched down the street, with more people coming all the time. Percy wondered how many of them would even make it inside, and why that even appealed to people.

Nerites didn’t bother with any of it, just walked up to the door and inside, not even slowing down for the bouncer to jump up and open the door. Percy and the others trailed after him.

Stepping inside smacked Percy in the face with damp heat and the scent of a hundred different colognes and perfume battling it out with the smell of sweat and alcohol. Nerites beckoned them to follow him a roped off flight of stairs. Once again they were admitted with Nerites acting like they owned the place.

They walked up to the second level of the club which was mostly tables. Beautiful women strode between them on tall heels carrying big bottles of liquor on trays held aloft by their deceptively delicate looking wrists. On the opposite side of the second level from where they’d entered was a doorway. Overhead it said _Achra_ in blocky black letters. The black was odd, darker than any black Percy had seen since falling into Tartarus like it was the absence of light itself.

There was no rope guarding the doorway, and no guard either. There was no door either, just an inky darkness in the doorway. No one seemed to notice it.

From below the sound paused for a minute and then the DJ announced someone and the crowd erupted in screams. A fine featured looking boy about Percy’s age appeared on stage and waved, garnering more screams of delight. He started playing his set, building up for his first drop.

“Who’s that?” asked Jason.

“Oh, him?” Nerites looked down at the DJ dismissively. “Just another Dutch twink with the world’s hottest song who nobody will care about in two months. Keep up, we don’t want to be late.”

As they made their way around the second level Nico leaned in to Percy and Jason. “What’s a twink?”

“Yeah, I’ve never heard that word before,” said Jason and they both looked at Percy.

“I keep forgetting you guys didn’t have normal childhoods,” said Percy and at the looks they gave him he had to admit his hadn’t exactly been normal either, but it had been way more normal than theirs. “Okay a twink is like—it’s a hot young gay dude. Like they don’t bulk up, and they’re always super pretty? And hardcore into manscaping.”

“How do you know that?” asked Jason. Nico was mouthing the word ‘manscaping’ to himself, his brow furrowed.

“Bro, I grew up in New York,” said Percy and Jason gave him that look people give New Yorkers when they dared to talk about how awesome New York is. Percy ignored it magnanimously. “I know all about gay stuff. You’d actually be a decent twink, or maybe a twunk.”

“Twunk?” asked Jason hesitantly as though he didn’t really want to know.

“A hunky twink, or muscle twink,” said Percy. “The whole blond hair blue eyes bit is pretty classic twink.”

“That doesn’t seem at all racist,” said Jason wryly and Percy shrugged.

“Welcome to the world.” Percy looked at Nico, who had been suspiciously quiet and caught him watching Percy. Nico flinched his gaze away and then seemed to realize it was pointless to pretend he hadn’t been staring at Percy and looked back at him with an almost sheepish glower if such a thing were possible.

“Okay, boys,” said Nerites turning around to address them. “Beyond the veil is Club Achra, and—well, just stick close to me and wait for Olympus’s ambassador to show up. I’m betting Zeus picks either Poseidon or Hera, so let’s keep our fingers crossed for Poseidon. If an immortal tries to harm you, offers you food or drink, or tries to coerce you, then just invoke Lucifer’s name, but be sure you mean it. Lucifer takes this whole neutral ground thing very seriously, and once he starts smiting, he’s slow to stop.”

“How does that make him different from any other god?” Percy muttered.

“Well for one he’s not a god, technically speaking,” said Nerites tartly. “Not that it matters, since he could incinerate every other immortal on the island if he wanted, including the gods. He’s almost as powerful as your fathers.”

“Good to know,” said Nico and Percy honestly couldn’t tell if it sarcastic or genuine. Possibly somewhere between the two.

“Which is why you,” said Nerites as he turned to Percy, “are not going to say a word until Olympus’s representative arrives. If you say something that gets you killed, everything will go to hell even more than it already has. Nico, Jason, do whatever you have to in order to keep him in line.”

“Wow,” said Percy. “You’re a real jerk when you want to be, aren’t you?”

“Percy, bro, he does kind of have a point,” said Jason. “I’ve seen you sass just about every god, monster, giant, or whatever we’ve come across. You have no survival instincts.”

“I do too!” Percy protested.

“Percy’s not stupid,” said Nico and Percy would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Nico directing his barely concealed glower Nerites on Percy’s behalf. “Just show us where we should wait.”

Nerites raised an eyebrow at Nico and then practically sashayed through the dark doorway without a word.

“Can both of you please, try not to piss off the only immortal here who doesn’t want us dead or worse?” asked Jason and Percy really hated how he’d appointed himself ‘group dad’ or whatever.

_You didn’t seem to hate it when he was giving you advice about girls or tucking you in to bed_ said a nasty little voice in Percy’s head. Everyone had a voice like it, but sometimes Percy wondered if his hadn’t grown louder since Tartarus.

“Shut up, Jason,” said Nico and brushed past him into the darkness. Jason looked almost hurt and Percy had to restrain some serious eye rolling.

“Maybe don’t treat us like little kids you have to herd around,” said Percy and Jason scowled at him.

“I don’t,” he started and stopped. “Sorry. Let’s go.”

It wasn’t the most gracious apology, but it was more than Percy had expected and honestly more than he might have given in the same place. Besides, it was easy to forgive Jason.

They stepped into the darkness and came out in a different world, a world on fire yet still dark. The fire burned but it cast little in the way of light or warmth. Between the flame’s languorous flickers long shadows shifted in and out of being in slow, ponderous heartbeats, flexing in time to a rhythm lurking just out of hearing.

The darkness _danced_.

In the center of the room was a fountain of sorts. A small star hung in the air and bled fire like water onto a sensually ever-shifting sculpture, all curved lines and dark gleaming metal. Percy stared at the fire flowing from the fountain and realized his heart was hammering, and his hands were twitching and his throat burned with the memory of liquid fire. He felt afraid, and also aroused, as the shapes dancing within and without, the fire provoked something in him, something close to hunger, but more like gravity.

“Percy.” Nerites’s voice was like cold water, the shock of ice in the ocean.

Percy felt dizzy, and made to sit down only to realize he was already seated in a chair. They were at a table of sorts, a booth that implied a sphere recessed into the floor. On one side of him was Nerites, and the other stood Jason, Nico peering at him worriedly from over Jason’s shoulder.

“How are you feeling, Perseus?” asked Nerites, and Percy tried to talk, but his mouth was so dry he could only croak. Suddenly Nico was pressing a bottle of water into his hands, the top already taken off. Percy drank, and felt better.

“Confused, verging on angry,” said Percy and drank some more water. “What the hell just happened to me?”

“Esoteric resonance,” said Hades as he stepped out from the shadows behind them with… was that Will? “A somewhat intriguing phenomenon, though perhaps not surprising, given your experience with the Phlegethon. The Morningstar’s power is… adjacent, after all.”

Hades wore a double breasted black suit with slender white pinstripes that hung in a tight cut on his powerful frame. Rings with precious gems flickered on his fingers, his cufflinks were little monograms like the one on Nico’s credit card, and he even had a tie pin, a tiny skull that looked eerily real despite its size, its mouth slightly agape.

Percy had a feeling if he leaned in close he might just hear it screaming.

“Oh good, and here I was worried my life would get too dull for the gods to enjoy,” said Percy. Hades’ lip curled into a sneer. Jason’s hand clamped down on Percy’s shoulder.

“Forgive him, Father, he’s out of sorts,” said Nico quickly. Hades looked down at Nico with… was that fondness? A warm expression in his eyes?

“Lord Hades.” Nerites spoke so delicately that the question was only implied by the subtlest of inflection.

“Yes, I am here to represent the interests of Olympus,” said Hades, and he was visibly amused.

This was not quite the same Hades that Percy remembered.

Was this the further result of the merge between their Greek and Roman selves? Percy hoped so. Kinder, gentler gods would be nice, although as gods it was still for given values of kind and gentle.

“Hail, Cousin! How do you fare?” Lucifer approached their table. He still looked ridiculously handsome, but he cut quite a contrast to Hades. Where Hades looked like a man of immeasurable means in the prime of his power, Lucifer looked like an aristocratic dilettante, a young rebel without a cause or care in the world. Around them, the room went quiet as the various immortals watched with careful eyes. It wasn’t every day that one of the great powers of the Axis Mundi came to visit with their patron.

“I am well, Cousin,” said Hades, and they clasped hands. The air crackled for a brief second and Percy saw images glimmer over the two, as if reality was something superimposed on them and for a moment was giving way, revealing the truth beneath.

“Good, for we have much to discuss—“ Lucifer stopped, and stared at Will, who hadn’t said anything to anyone but Nico since he arrived.

In fact, why was Will here again?

Will and Nico had been talking, but stopped when Lucifer cast his attention on Will.

“Yes, we do indeed have much to discuss,” said Hades in a low voice. “Perhaps we could move this conversation to a more discreet venue?”

“Yes, I’d planned as much,” said Lucifer slowly, not taking his eyes off Will. Then he smiled. “Oh, Hades, you must tell me _everything_.”

“Nerites, attend us,” said Hades in the same tone one would use on a well trained dog. Nerites’ face twisted up for a second before it cleared to steadfast neutrality.

“Wow, you know for a second I thought you’d actually become less of a jerk,” said Percy. “Damn it, Jason, let go of my shoulder.”

“You are as insolent as ever, Percy Jackson,” said Hades, his dark eyes glittering. Percy threw Jason’s hand off and glowered at him, when another hand landed on his other shoulder. Percy turned to slap it off and met Will’s eyes.

They were still blue, but now there were little flares of gold in the iris, like a sun sat behind his pupil subtly gleaming. At his touch, Percy felt light, rested, and for the first time since they’d been attacked at sea, he felt at ease.

“I’ll take care of them,” said Will and Percy dimly realized that Will should not be able to do what he was doing, and he was talking to Hades as though he was an equal.

Hades nodded and Percy’s worldview went into a serious wobble because _what the **what** was that?_ “Good. You remember what to do?”

“Yes,” said Will and he sounded exasperated but Hades didn’t look at him like an insect to be crushed under his heel. What was going on?

“Very well. Shall we adjourn, Cousin?” Hades inclined his head and Lucifer led him away after taking one last long look at Will. Nerites followed after them, walking just behind them.

“You know, I’d never seen the famed Percy Jackson charm in action,” said Will as he let go of Percy’s shoulder. “And now I honestly don’t know how you’ve managed to survive this long.”

“Will, what happened to you?” asked Nico and Will’s eyes softened as he looked at Nico and then he picked up Nico’s hand so he could gently stroke Nico’s knuckles with his thumb.

Wait. What?

“Something really cool and also utterly terrifying,” said Will frankly. “I can tell you guys all about it while we’re on the way. How do we get out of here?”

“I’m not sure,” said Nico still staring at Will and how had Percy _missed_ this? Because Jason wasn’t even batting an eyelash and Percy felt like the world had just tilted out from under his feet again.

“Are you guys going out?” he asked and Nico jumped back from Will and Jason groaned. But Percy was focused entirely on Will, and the look he turned on Percy that burned like the noonday sun on a midsummer day.

“How dumb _are_ you?” asked Will and Percy was on his feet before he’d thought about it.

“Percy, no. Don’t,” Jason hissed as he grabbed him. Percy didn’t struggle. He didn’t really want to punch Will in the face—well he didn’t want to do it here at any rate.

“Don’t be a dick,” Nico said sharply to Will, and Will sighed.

“I’m sorry, Percy, that was uncalled for. Things are just.” Will stopped and looked around. None of the shadowy figures seemed to be paying them any attention now that Hades and Lucifer were gone, but they were gods and monsters. They could look however they pleased.

“It’s fine,” said Percy and it wasn’t but they didn’t have time.

Later he and Will could have words.

“Come on,” said Jason, tugging on Percy’s arm. Will and Nico fell into step together behind them.

“Please, Percy, just hold it together until we get out of here,” Jason murmured in his ear, and his hand on Percy’s arm dragging him along brought back shades of Ugly Gabe and Percy tore his arm out of Jason’s grip. “Dude—“

“Shut up. Just walk,” said Percy. Behind him he could hear Will and Nico talking but with all the noise it was impossible to make out what they said.

He could still swear he heard his name at least once.

It only got louder when they exited Achra back into Sitra _._ People were partying hard and the music was deafening. They made it outside and Percy breathed deeply from the evening’s cool sea-salt air.

“Come on,” said Will and they walked down the street to duck into an alley out of view. Will glanced around and then raised his hand.

There was a glimmer in the air, and then a car slowly etched its way into reality. The paintjob was an almost burnished matte-gold with a black and bronze leather interior and red highlights throughout. It was a Bugatti Veyron, a hard-top convertible version stretched out just enough for a cramped backseat.

And Will had definitely just pulled it out of mid-air. So that was a thing.

“How did you do that?” asked Percy.

“Get in,” Will said without acknowledging him..

“Will,” said Nico looking at him with wide eyes. Will gunned the engine and looked up expectantly.

Jason hopped up and floated into the backseat, and Percy clambered in after him, stewing. Not even he was dense enough to take the front seat right now, although he kind of wanted to. He didn’t like what was happening with Nico and Will, but he was keeping that locked up. Percy didn’t think of himself as homophobic, but he couldn’t come up with any other reason why he’d feel so… protective of Nico.

Of course maybe Will was just a dick and Percy thought Nico deserved better. That could be a thing. He doubted it though. Will had always been a cool guy. In fact, now Will’s jerkiness towards Percy made a bit more sense.

Didn’t mean he had to like it though. Didn’t mean he had to put up with being looked down on for the apparently _unforgivable_ and _inexcusable_ crime of _not noticing things_.

“Okay,” said Will when they were all in the car. “So, here’s the thing—“

“Uh, guys?” Percy looked at Jason and then followed Jason’s eyes up to the sky. Night had already fallen, but on the distant horizon loomed a sullen red glow. A glow that was advancing on them, on the entire island like a slowly oozing wound cut into the divide between heaven and earth.

“What on earth is that?” asked Percy.

“Trouble,” said Will and gunned the car. “We need to—“

Out at sea beyond their field of vision there was an explosion, far out enough the force and sound of it lagged after the light of it.

The explosion didn’t end though, and as the red line in the sky pressed forward it began to wrap around whatever invisible barrier Lucifer had enacted on Ibiza, until the sound was beyond deafening and coming from all sides.

Will raised a hand and light flowed out of his fingers to make a top for the car. Suddenly it was quiet and still.

“Will, what happened to you?”

“They had me sit on my dad’s throne to anchor his power so it couldn’t be stolen through him,” said Will. He gunned the car. “And then I fell off the throne. So now I’m a living god.”

There was a moment of stillness.

“What?” shouted all three of them in unison.

“You’re—you’re a god?” asked Nico and Will shook his head.

“No, a living god. It’s complicated, and I’ll explain it later, I promise. But first we gotta get out of here.”

“Wait, if you’re… then…” said Jason and then swallowed noisily instead of finishing his sentence.

“Yeah,” said Will, staring straight ahead as the car lifted into the air. “Apollo’s dead.”

Then the sky shattered.


	16. Chapter 16

Israel - Tel Aviv

_You do not control your fate_

Annabeth

Rachel had escaped, that was the important thing, Annabeth reminded herself. The Oracle was still free, and once Rachel exited the Labyrinth, she could get help.

Help was coming, she just hoped it came soon enough.

“Put them with the rest,” Enoch had said when the nephilim carried Piper and Annabeth into his lair. The fight hadn’t really been a fight. The nephilim overran them and the renegade demigods with ease and then carried everyone off in different directions. Annabeth had been relieved when the nephilim deposited her in a room next to Piper.

As far as villainous lairs went it was one of the nicer ones. They were in the penthouse of a very expensive looking building full of luxury apartments. From where she was standing Annabeth had a clear view of Mediterranean. She and Piper were taken up to the roof’s first level and placed in a garden with a variety of stone sculptures.

At least, Annabeth hoped they were sculptures. Several of them looked very real, like Medusa’s victims or something similar, and others looked ancient and worn. A good number of them were terrified, but others were very clearly posed, and some were quite playful. There was even one of a heavy-set ugly man playing poker, with a look of such stupefaction on his face that it bordered on comical.

Neither she nor Piper could move yet. The nephilim had placed them in the shade but not facing each other. All Annabeth could see of Piper was the side of her face and back of her head. Thankfully a fresh breeze coming in right off the Mediterranean cut the edge of the heat, which the date palms didn’t shade them from.

She’d ceased panicking a while ago. She couldn’t move, and neither could Piper. They would just have to wait, and letting herself feel terror would be counterproductive.

She hoped Piper was managing all right.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies.” Enoch walked into view. “Please, come with me.”

Annabeth’s body followed along obediently, Piper sliding into step beside her. They joined Enoch around a small table set amidst the greenery. Annabeth realized with a dull horror that the table was resting on the shoulders of kneeling overly realistic, possibly human, sculpture. It recalled Atlas to her, and she shivered.

Annabeth also realized she had freedom of movement again, somewhat. She quickly cataloged every potential weapon in reach and saw Enoch watching her with a small smile. With a deep-seated control gained only through years of dangerous quests, she took a breath and relaxed.

“Clever, daughter of Athena. Of course, that is to be expected,” said Enoch, pulling a cigarillo out of his jacket pocket and crossing his long, thin legs. One of the nephilim approached bearing a tray of little plates of food deposited them on the table and then lumbered off.

Enoch put the cigarillo to his lips and pulled, and the end flared into a sullen red cherry. It was a neat little trick, but Annabeth was more concerned with taking stock of her surroundings.

“My apologies, Miss McLean, but I’m afraid I cannot afford to let you speak in those dulcet tones of yours,” said Enoch in between puffs of his cigarillo. “My mind has been made up, and it is to remain so made. I am certain Miss Chase will prove a more than adequate conversation partner in any case. Please, have something to eat.”

Annabeth looked at the plates of pickled vegetables, little roast fish, and crumbly white cheese and flatbread, and her stomach rumbled. Or maybe it was Piper’s. Or both of them.

The food looked good, and she hadn’t eaten for hours. Still, taking food from an enemy was a gambling with her life at the best, and certain doom at the worst. It was best not to take anything.

So when Piper reached out and popped an olive into her mouth before Annabeth could say anything, she panicked.

“Piper, no!”

“Oh please, it’s fine,” Enoch said with a wave of his hand.

“Spit it out!” Annabeth shouted hoping it wasn’t too late; you had to _eat_ most foods to get in trouble in mythology. And Piper spit.

Right into Enoch’s face. He flinched and fumbled his cigarillo, yelping as it landed on his pants. Piper without stopping jumped across the table and tackled him.

Quickly adapting to the new circumstances and inwardly cheering Piper on, Annabeth grabbed a plate and smashed it across the table, leaving her with a wickedly jagged porcelain edge. Piper had wrenched Enoch’s  arm behind him, and it was the easiest thing for Annabeth to grab his other arm and push the point of her makeshift knife right up under his carotid artery.

“Release her voice,” said Annabeth. “Three. Two. One—“

She pressed the point of the plate into Enoch’s throat, and his eyes widened, and Annabeth could feel the Mist shiver around her.

“And we’re back,” said Piper and looked to Annabeth with a cheery sparkle in her eyes. “Nice work, Miss Chase.”

“You too, Miss McLean,” said Annabeth. “Now, Mr. Enoch, while we’re  all being so _polite_ , maybe you’d like to give us back our weapons and guarantee safe passage for us out of this lovely lair you have here.”

 

* * *

 

Chiron’s face was solemn as he listened to Annabeth report via Iris Message. Lines drawn on his face by the war and only recently erased had reappeared in the rainbow shimmer, and he looked worn and tired and just _old_.

It occurred to Annabeth not for the first time that the seemingly unfeeling and capricious nature of most immortals might be because humanity simply wasn’t an option. Not if they wanted to stay sane. Gods and monsters existed on a different modality from mortals. It was in bridging this gap that demigods came into play, and where the true power of both could manifest.

Demigods were tools, and Chiron was the smith who forged heroes from them and then watched them as they were discarded after their purpose was filled.

It seemed more a curse than a sacred calling.

“This is grave news,” said Chiron. “Unfortunately, we have our own problems. Olympus is under siege, and we have reason to believe that not only is Meru under assault as well but so are the three neutral citadels.”

Which meant that Ibiza, where Percy was right now, was being attacked at this very moment. For a moment, Annabeth couldn’t speak as the fear gripped her tight like an icy vice around her heart.

“Don’t worry about the boys,” said Chiron gently. “Lord Hades went to collect them himself.”

Oh. Well that was actually pretty relieving. Piper agreed; judging by how her shoulders relaxed.

“So, what should we do?” asked Piper.

“Stay hidden and if possible near water,” said Chiron. “Wait for further instructions, but don’t be afraid to use your initiative. Communication may be fraught in the future, so I’m telling you right now: if you cannot contact camp or Olympus, then you must do whatever you believe needs to be done.”

“Chiron…” said Annabeth.

“The gods were prepared for threats from their own mythos, or from the threat of other pantheons,” said Chiron. “They did not anticipate demigods, especially not demigods banding together from across the divides of their celestial heritage. And if Enoch is leading them… then our situation is perilous beyond measure. It would, at least, explain how they possess such strength that beggars the mind, no mortal should be able to…”

Chiron cut himself off. “We are at war once again. But this time, our enemy is not bound by the forces that keep the immortal powers in check. It is a danger unlike any the world has ever known. And we must all do what we must.”

“What about Rachel?” asked Annabeth.

“By now Miss Dare will have arrived in Naples,” said Chiron. Rachel had emerged from the Labyrinth outside Dusseldorf, Germany. She’d promptly called in to Camp to report what had happened. Hearing that Rachel was okay had been a relief, letting Annabeth focus on relaying more crucial information. “The boys will pick her up on their way to Delphi. At Delphi, Percy, Jason, and Nico will disembark to remove Python and free the source of prophecy while Will and Rachel continue on to pick you two up.”

“Where should we meet them?” asked Piper while Annabeth wondered how Will suddenly figured into this. “How are they getting here?”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Chiron. “They’ll be able to find you as long as you stay within the city’s limits. Will has been--”

The connection broke abruptly.

“Huh?” Piper waved her hand where the image of Chiron had been. “What just happened?“

In the shadows behind them, something snarled.

Annabeth made a show of turning around slowly. If there was one thing, she’d learned in all her years of adventuring it was that after themselves the single thing all immortals loved best was drama. Which meant that a monster would almost always wait until the proper moment to attack.

Which also meant that Annabeth had time to subtly unsheathe her bone dagger while she made a giant production of turning around.

And came face to face with—a raccoon?

“Oh man, if you could see the looks on your faces!” The raccoon rolled onto his back laughing. “Priceless!”

“Excuse me?” asked Annabeth trading a look with Piper. A raccoon was not an animal native to the Greek mythos. This was something else, and after their experiences with Oya and Nanabozho, Annabeth wasn’t sure what to expect.

But raccoons did tend to be tricksters.

“Hoo boy, okay,” said the raccoon sitting back up. “Sorry, your faces—just too funny.”

“Right,” said Piper slowly. “And we’re very happy we could make you laugh, but—“

“No, no, I get it,” said the raccoon. “Let’s get down to business. The name’s Azeban, and I’m here to take you guys somewhere safe.”

“Uh huh,” said Annabeth and Azeban rolled his little raccoon eyes at her.

“Yes, yes, daughter of Athena. I’m a trickster, and I can’t be trusted, yadda-yadda-ya. Nanabozho’s watching over your pantheon’s Oracle and the big bosses told me I had to shepherd you around too. Nanny gets the good assignment like always, teacher’s pet.”

The last had been muttered more as an aside.

“Wait, Nanny is with Rachel?” asked Annabeth.

“Well, yeah, he wasn't gonna stick around to get murdered by the damn Metatron,” said Azeban. “Leave that idiocy to the warrior gods, like Oya.”

“Lady Oya died to buy us time,” said Piper angrily but Annabeth was more focused.

“She actually died?” Azeban turned his gaze on her, and his raccoon face was suddenly inscrutable.

“So it’s true, Annabeth Chase really is Wisdom’s daughter. Cool, cool, cool. Now follow me before the nephilim finish picking up your trail. Enoch isn’t happy he underestimated you.”

Azeban turned tail and ran off. With a helpless shrug at Piper, the girls took off after him.

For a raccoon, he moved fast. Annabeth and Piper had to sprint at one point to catch up, which raised some alarm bells for Annabeth. Paying attention to your surroundings at a near-sprint was practically impossible.

On the other hand, she and Piper were knowingly letting a trickster lead them somewhere unknown, so there really wasn’t that much deeper they could dig this hole they'd put themselves in.

Honestly, if she stopped to think about it, she’d probably decide this was a foolish idea. But Piper had taught her the value of impulsivity, and raccoon tricksters were a low class of trickster compared to say monkeys or coyotes. The odds they were about to get into more trouble than they could handle were relatively small (especially since they already had half-angel monsters controlled by an immortal, and possibly angelic, sorcerer pursuing them).

Legs burning and gasping for breath Annabeth was relieved when Azeban slowed to take a hard turn into a slender alleyway, barely large enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder.

The raccoon shimmered and grew seamlessly into a boy, maybe just a year or two younger than Annabeth and Piper. He had dark laughing eyes, dimples, and his hair was pulled into a single long braid.

“You guys run fast for mortals,” he said flashing them a wicked grin that roved up and down their bodies. Annabeth almost rolled her eyes. Piper had no such restraint.

“C’mon, the boss is waiting,” said Azeban and opened a lopsided door that seemed to be barely clinging to its hinges. They stepped inside.

The outside of the building looked dingy and rundown. Inside though was a room far smaller than Annabeth expected, and it was decorated like the inside of a tent.

No, it _was_ the inside of a tent. Walls of reindeer skin and a low burning fire combined to make the room smell very strongly. It wasn't pleasant. Outside the wind could be heard howling, and the walls seemed to suck at the fire’s warmth, indicating the cold outside.

Annabeth turned back to look at the door, but it had been replaced by a tent flat, over which was mounted a carved raven head. Azeban slid past Annabeth and Piper to the fire and stoked it, building it up into a proper flame.

“Where are we?” asked Piper. Outside the wind continued to howl, and the room filled with the smell of smoke.

“A between place, like the Labyrinth,” said Azeban. “Take a seat. The boss should be here soon.”

Azeban shrank back into his animal form and scurried under a tent flap, vanishing from view.

 “So, mind telling me what just happened?” asked Piper lightly, but Annabeth could tell she was worried they’d just gotten themselves in over their heads.

Not that they usually weren’t, but…

“I think we followed a trickster, and at this point it’s a bit out of our hands,” said Annabeth, and Piper relaxed.

“Okay, just checking.” Annabeth admired very little about other people. She wasn’t exactly as a misanthrope, but having a charitable view of humanity when you’re smarter than 99% of all people could be… challenging. But Piper’s emotional control—no, her understanding of her own feelings, the idea of control was Annabeth’s whole problem in that arena—impressed Annabeth a great deal. To just relax and cede authority over the situation like that was anathema to every bit of Annabeth’s intellect that cherished logic and reason over all other virtues.

Recognizing when there was nothing to be done was a skill, but _tolerating_ that knowledge belonged to another skillset entirely

“So, at least, the boys are safe,” said Piper. “But… did Chiron say that Will would be coming to pick us up?”

“He did,” said Annabeth. Now that she had a moment to think that was very worrying. Will shouldn’t be able to leave the throne once he sat on it unless Apollo was recovered. But Chiron’s demeanor told her that couldn’t be the case. Chiron had a particular love for Apollo, and even though Apollo acted like a goofy teenager around the wise old centaur something of their father-son relationship came through. If Apollo had been rescued Chiron would have been happy, or, at least, more upbeat.

So how was Will wondering around? Had the gods changed their minds? They weren’t exactly known for their flexibility.

“Well, at least, we’ll see the boys soon,” said Piper. “Assuming this isn’t a trap.”

“I think we’re okay on that front,” said Annabeth. “The trick, whatever it is, will be something more… complex.”

“Will wonders never cease? Azeban, for once you did not lie.” A man emerged from a tent flap. Behind him, the sky was on fire, and the blast of air that followed him was warm. “Is that a first for you?”

The man was good looking, with dark hair and wicked black eyes, only appearing a few years older than Annabeth and Piper. Behind him slunk in Azeban in his human form, looking mutinous. It was an ugly look for such a young face.

“Just cuz Crow runs the conclave, Kutkh, doesn’t make you better than me,” he muttered, and Kutkh cuffed the back of his head. “Ow!”

“You tell me that Annie here is Wisdom’s Daughter, and then you go shooting your big mouth off,” said Kutkh but he didn’t sound angry, just entertained. “ _That’s_ the reason I’m better than you, not the other thing.”

Azeban sulked down into his raccoon shape and curled up in a corner, pointedly facing away from them. Kutkh rolled his eyes and shot them both a commiserating look that should not have been nearly as charming as it turned out to be.

This Kutkh was a dangerous one. She wanted to like him despite herself, but Annabeth was self-aware enough to override her attraction to charming rascals and critically observe him.

Kutkh was a trickster raven god. Not one she was familiar with, but the animal skins in the tent were from reindeer, and the carpets were reminiscent of the Central Asian Steppes, which probably placed Kutkh in the Russian Far East. So hopefully, he was one of the more benevolent trickster gods.

“My deepest apologies, ladies,” said Kutkh as he threw himself with careless grace into a mound of pillows. “I hate to meet under such trying circumstances.”

“I think you have us at a disadvantage, sir,” said Annabeth and Kutkh made a sound of good humor.

“I forget how formal the Olympians demand their children be! Please, call me Kutkh, Annie.”

“Then I have to say that I prefer Annabeth to Annie, Kutkh,” said Annabeth and he laughed, and his laugh was an ugly, mocking thing just like a raven’s.

“Fair enough, Wisdom’s Beautiful Daughter! And I suppose you prefer Piper to… hmm, let’s say… Pipes?”

“I do in fact prefer Piper to Pipes,” said Piper and Kutkh smiled at her, his eyes briefly roving up and down her body.

“How wonderful! Well then, Annabeth and Piper, I have only one question for you, the only question that matters.” Kutkh leaned forward, and the interior of the tent darkened, the shadows of two great wings spread out on the wall behind Kutkh, and his eyes glittered coldly above his suddenly predatory smile. “How do you want the world to end?


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I talk a lot about how self-indulgent this fic is, but I feel like this is the point where I decided I should jump my own shark

Naples

_The sleep of the valorous is deep, and from it few champions wake_

Jason

Even flying through the air the ride out from Ibiza had been rough. Despite the fact that Will was a living god (whatever the hell that meant) the endless horde of monsters had taxed him enough to slow them down. Monsters of a sort and diversity Jason had never seen before chased them through the air, seemingly endless despite the fact that Will could incinerate hundreds of them just be driving his car through the horde.

Behind them the island had turned bright red with fire, periodically swamped by a darkness that seemed so total it voided the concept of light.

Percy had flinched when the darkness surged the first time as they hurtled through the air away from Ibiza. Jason wondered again what kind of darkness he’d met down in Tartarus. He hoped Annabeth was okay, but she had Piper with her and Jason knew the two of them would be fine, emotionally or otherwise.

He worried about Percy. Hell, he worried about Nico too, but Nico seemed to be in the best place he’d been since Jason had known him.

What really worried him was that Jason knew he could be there for Nico. He didn’t know how to be there for Percy. Nico had only needed to be convinced that people would care for him, something which put the agency square on Jason and later Reyna’s shoulders.

He didn’t know what Percy needed. It seemed to change from moment to moment, and Jason couldn’t predict what would come next. He felt clumsy, like he was holding spun glass desperately trying to keep it from breaking but his fingers were like iron clamps, and every time he touched it he thought he could hear a crack.

When the darkness flared up even stronger, blanking out the sky around them except for the car’s headlights, even Jason had felt afraid. The flying beasts that had been pursuing them screamed and were swallowed by the endless shadow, eaten by the void.

Percy had been practically trembling in his seat, and since the back of Will’s magical supercar had no real middle Jason slung an arm over Percy’s shoulder and pulled him close to his side. Percy had stiffened and made to pull away but Jason kept his arm firm, and didn’t look at him. After a moment Percy stopped struggling, and settled into Jason’s side. When a moment later his head listed to the side and rested on Jason’s shoulder he knew he’d made the right call.

Nico hadn’t seemed too bothered by it all, but then again he was at home in the darkness. The truth of the matter was that Nico’s inner turmoil and angst had probably prepared him for the kind of damage that Tartarus inflicted.  When Jason caught his eyes in the rearview mirror Nico’s mouth had been set in a grim line as he watched Percy with worry.

They’d been flying through the air for a little under an hour when Will began their descent into Naples. Jason squeezed Percy’s side to wake him up and was gifted the novel experience of Percy nuzzling the crook of his neck.

“Few more minutes, Annabeth,” mumbled Percy and okay he’d just _kissed Jason’s throat_.

“Bro, it’s me.” Percy’s hand froze mid caress of Jason’s thigh and his eyes shot open. He rocketed back against the door as Jason cleared his throat.

“Uh,” said Percy, red as a stop sign. “Sorry.”

Both their pilot and co-pilot were failing miserably at hiding their sniggers.

“It’s fine,” said Jason, rubbing his neck where Percy’s lips had ghosted feather soft over sensitive skin. The memory of it tingled.

Being horny when your girlfriend wasn’t around was just the worst. What he needed was just a few minutes to sneak off by himself and take care of business. With one thing and another it had been a couple days since Jason had any privacy and it was taking less and less to set him off, so to speak.

He could only imagine Percy was going through the same thing. Though judging by the flirting going on in front of him, Nico might be seeing the light at the end of his particular tunnel.

Jason felt fairly confident identifying as straight, but he’d done stuff with other guys and it had been… fun, for lack of a better word. Of course there was a big difference between you and a brother in your cohort giving each other a hand when you’re just figuring things out, and making a move on your ostensibly straight buddy because you’re horny, and when you both had girlfriends who didn’t deserve anything less than 110% loyalty from you.

Also, god only knew what Nico would do if he caught wind of Jason and Percy ‘relieving tension’ together.

Thinking never hurt anyone though.

Well, if you didn’t count boner-ache, which as much he wanted to, Jason could not in good conscience do.

“I’m going to drop you guys off at a hotel,” said Will. “Shower, nap, eat, whatever you need to do while I find Rachel. I shouldn’t take longer than a couple hours but…”

“Nothing’s certain right now,” said Nico, his body angled towards Will, and Will nodded. They stared into each other’s eyes for just a beat too long and then seemed to remember that Jason and Percy were in the backseat. It was kind of cute, but Jason would be glad when one of them finally made a move and put the rest of them out of their misery.

Or most of them out of their misery at any rate. Percy was frowning at them pretty hard, and it didn’t look like it came from the same place Jason’s exasperation came from. 

Before he could question Percy with a solid elbow to the ribcage the car swooped down. They all whooped and hollered because it was like the best roller coaster ride ever, and for a moment everything was okay.

 

* * *

 

Will did indeed drop them off at a hotel (a really nice one too) but it hadn’t occurred to Jason or Percy that they would need money until after Will had flown off to find Rachel.

Nico had strolled ahead to the concierge desk entirely unconcerned, and now Jason could see why.

“What is _that_?” asked Percy. Jason was busy staring.

In Nico's hand was a pure black credit card with a silver monogram of the letters P and L in the top left corner. It had  understated silver letters spelling out “o b s I d I a n” in the center of the card, with little Ionic columns in place of I’s. The cardholder’s name was Nico Di Angelo and the expiration date was just a small infinity symbol. Cold radiated from it just under the threshold of discomfort, like other artifacts from the Underworld.

“My dad understands the concept of an allowance, but not of proportion,” said Nico with a shrug as he handed the card over to the concierge who took it gingerly, but without complaint. “It’s pretty convenient, to be honest.”

“What’s the limit on that thing?” asked Jason and Nico paused to think.

“Not sure it has one.”

“G _razie, signore_ Di Angelo,” said the concierge as he handed the card back and a receipt that was mostly a blank page, only a discreet column of numbers centered amidst a sea of white. Nico signed below the column and Jason wondered if he should polish his glasses, because there was no possible way that number was real.

“Nico,” said Jason, his voice a little strangled while Percy just gaped. “We really don’t need to stay somewhere this nice.”

Nico gave the two of them a quelling look. “My father is the _literal_ god of wealth. This is nothing. However, if you want to be horrified I can get us an upgrade to the Presidential Suite. Then we can all stay in the same room. It’s only a couple thousand euros a night.”

Percy made a noise like a dying bird and Jason hurriedly assured Nico that was entirely unnecessary.

 

* * *

 

Taking a shower finally afforded Jason a moment to himself and he took advantage of it. No finesse, only taking enough time to really make it count. He had a feeling the next few days would be mostly fighting and a subpar orgasm could be almost as bad as not having one in the first place.

Well, not really.

He closed his eyes and pictured Piper in the shower with him, the way her skin would be slippery under the water, soft but firm. His breath caught and his hips stuttered and he was ready to cum all over the shower door when Percy walked in the bathroom.

“Sorry bro, one sec just gotta grab some water.” Jason whirled around even though Percy probably couldn’t see through the opaque glass.

“I’m taking a shower, Jackson,” he said with far more patience than he was feeling.

“Yeah, and now I’m done,” said Percy from behind him. “Besides, it’s not like you’ve got anything that I haven’t seen before.”

“Percy,” Jason growled and when the door clicked shut he sighed. Well, there went his erection. Time to start over.

He was just getting into it, imaging the feeling of Piper’s mouth on his cock and the memory of their first fumbling blowjob and how good it had been and then what he’d done for Piper in turn and the _noises_ she made--when Percy opened the door again.

But this time Jason jumped and slipped, and cracked his head against the tiled wall as he hit the floor.

“Jason?” Percy sounded awfully concerned for an unrepentant asshole.

“Gods damn it, Percy, what the hell is your problem?” Jason groaned. His head throbbed painfully and he checked his fingers to see if there was any blood. There wasn’t, but that didn’t make him feel any better.

“Are you okay, bro? Need me to come in there?” And now it sounded like he was laughing and for a second Jason was tempted to say yes, that if Percy was going to keep interrupting him then he should have the decency to come give Jason a hand.

Or a mouth.

At least it would shut him up. 

The thought of Percy on his knees before Jason, the glazed over lust he would have in his sea-green eyes as Jason fucked his mouth, was a little too compelling. He’d definitely prefer Piper, but there was a certain allure there, especially right now.

“I just need five minutes, Percy. Can you do that? Just give me _five_ minutes of privacy, _please_?”

“Okay, whatever, it’s not like it’s a big,” said Percy and then stopped as he finally put it all together. “Oh. _Oh._ Crap dude I am so sorry.”

The door closed and Jason sighed, because his heart just wasn't in it anymore. He finished washing up and was out of the shower a minute later.

Percy was cross-legged on his bed watching the news but when he looked up at Jason his face turned bright red and he hunched down.

“So. Uh. Shower’s free?” Jason rolled his eyes at Percy acting like a puppy who’d been scolded.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said and Percy did an odd roll off his bed and practically rocketed past Jason into the bathroom.

No idea what that was about. Maybe he was embarrassed? After making all that fuss about Jason not having anything he hadn’t seen before that was a bit rich. But that was Percy in a nutshell: a rich tapestry of confusion, bravado, and good intentions.

Jason got dressed while Percy showered. CNN was covering the alleged terrorist attacks breaking out around the world, especially New York and Shanghai. The mortals had no idea what was going on, but reading between the lines Jason could tell the gods were handling the assaults with relative ease.

Which raised the questions: who was throwing monsters away at certain death and for what purpose? And how were these renegade demigods involved?

Nico showed up again a little later knocking at the door.

“Have fun on your mystery errand?” asked Jason, who would bet serious money that Nico had just run out for condoms or something. The red flush that rose in Nico's cheeks and was only somewhat muted by his olive colored skin (all this time on the surface and in the sun had to be good for him) told Jason he would have made money on the bet.

“Shut up,” Nico said without much rancor. “Percy’s in the shower?”

“Yeah,” said Jason. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Breakfast I think, or I guess it’d be lunch by now,” said Nico shooting a look at the clock on the nightstand. “We should stay close to the hotel, but I don’t want to eat here. The lunch menu has too much tourist crap on it.”

“Okay,” said Jason who really didn’t care as long as he got to eat and it wasn’t terrible. But they were in Italy and Nico was Italian. Getting some authentic Italian food was not an unappealing idea.

“When you guys are ready come downstairs,” said Nico. “I’m going to ask at the desk.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” said Jason with a purposefully sloppy salute. Nico eyed him balefully and then stalked out of the room. Well, apparently not everything was copacetic in Di Angelo-land. Or he was just being a typical touchy teenager. Not everything had to be earth-shattering or world ending.

They already had more than enough of that in their lives.

 

* * *

 

“So, what do you guys want?” Nico had found a nearby café that met his requirements and they were now seated in the outside dining area, overlooking the water.

“I dunno… fettuccini alfredo?” asked Percy. Nico gave him a blank look and turned to Jason. Jason shrugged.

“Have both of you never eaten Italian food?”

“Like… spaghetti and meatballs?” said Jason. He'd had Italian food, but he didn't know there'd be a quiz before lunch.

“Gelato!” added Percy as though it were something to be proud of. Nico began massaging his temples, because apparently it wasn’t.

“Okay, so I’m going to order for you, do you have a preference for anything?”

Jason shrugged, he didn’t really care one way or another. He wasn’t a fussy eater.

“I dunno, nothing like… complicated,” said Percy waving his hand vaguely.

“If you want something simple I’ll just order you _cacio e pepe_ ,” said Nico.

“What’s that?” asked Percy warily.

“It’s pasta, black pepper, and cheese.” Percy frowned. Nico was losing his patience. “ _What_ , Percy.”

Percy cringed. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“He’s just embarrassed that he’s a big baby,” said Jason, comfortably smug atop his ivory tower of culinary adventurism. “And is only brave enough to eat little baby dishes.”

“Actually, simple pasta preparations are the rule more than exception,” said Nico but now he sounded amused watching Percy make faces at Jason. “Sauce is the accompaniment, the pasta is the main event; cooking here has always been about making more with less. _Cacio e pepe_ is what you make when you can’t afford the _guanciale_ to make _alla_ _carbonara_ or _alla gricia_.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what any of those words mean, but that’s okay because unlike some people  _I’m_ willing to try new things,” said Jason with such self-satisfied relish that Percy immediately began protesting that he would eat anything Jason would eat.

Mission accomplished.

Nico, who was visibly exasperated, drank some of the table wine they'd been provided (Jason wasn’t touching the stuff, he’d learned his lesson at Lucifer’s villa and so had Percy). When the waiter came by he and Nico spoke briefly, and then Nico rattled off their order. Jason was still impressed by Nico’s fluency with Italian. Between the Greek he was born understanding, and his familiarity with Latin, Nico essentially spoke four languages, and had access to many more because of root words.

The food came quickly. The waiter set it all down and offered to top off the table wine. Nico demurred and he took it away.

“So,” said Nico pointing at Percy’s dish. “This is gnocchi with porcini mushrooms.”

“Why are they green?” asked Percy warily poking his gnocchi.

“They’re made with nettles,” said Nico.

“Like stinging nettles?” asked Percy, surprised. Nico shot him a look and Percy tentatively tried one. He perked up, clearly surprised and pleased by what he’d just eaten. “Wow. This is good! Thanks, Nico.”

“You’re welcome,” said Nico and there was a light pink flush to his cheeks. Man, Jason couldn’t believe he’d ever thought Nico would just get over his feelings for Percy because he said he had. “Jason, uh, you have—“

“I got it, thanks,” said Jason. It was spaghetti with seafood and a very light tomato sauce, he had no questions. Although he had to admit he’d never seen clams with such long skinny clam shells.

“What are you eating?” asked Percy pointing at Nico’s plate. There were several thin filets of a small fish arranged between sautéed onions and a brick of something white that Jason thought might be cornbread but had grill marks on it so he wasn’t sure what it was.

“Anchovies and polenta,” he said. Percy made a face and Jason was tempted to agree with him. “Trust me, they don’t taste anything like that canned crud you get in the States.”

“If you say so,” said Percy. Nico rolled his eyes. He portioned out a small piece of anchovy.

“Try it.” Nico slid his plate toward Percy, who looked at Jason. Jason shrugged and dropped another empty clamshell into the bowl he’d been provided. He wasn’t the one who’d said anything.

“I dare you,” said Nico and it was, of course, exactly the right button to push. Within a few moments they were all sharing their food, and Nico was right about the anchovies. They were fishy, but not overpoweringly salty or oily.

However, the real winner was Percy’s pasta. Jason had never had gnocchi before, and their creamy texture was so tender that after a few chews it seemed to disappear. The taste was rich and buttery and cheesy from the sauce, and the mushrooms were so thinly sliced and tender that he could totally see why Percy, who was a little picky, would really like them.

“Man, parmesan cheese is really good in Italy,” said Percy.

“Well, this is _pecorino_ but yes—“ Nico stilled, not like a deer frozen before headlights, but like a leopard catching sight of a tiger. Percy and Jason very deliberately kept facing forward.

“Trouble?” asked Jason in a low voice. Percy already had Riptide in his hand, thumb circling the cap of the pen.

“You could say that.” Percy jerked as if someone had stuck his toe in an electrical socket.

“How you doing, Percy?” asked the tall, good-looking blond guy who casually dropped into the other empty chair at their table. “Nico, you’ve grown up. And you must be Thalia’s brother, Jason, right?”

He held his hand out and Jason looked at it and then at Percy and Nico.

“Uh, guys?”

“ _Luke.”_ Jason barely recognized Percy’s voice it was so low and angry. And now Jason knew why; he'd heard about Luke.

“Now, now, let’s not fight,” said Luke as he realized Jason wasn’t going to shake his hand. “It’s been a long time since we last saw each other. Can’t we just catch up?”

“You _died_ ,” said Percy and he sounded so small and broken that Jason’s heart ached. Luke looked at him sadly.

“Yeah, I did. And I'm sorry, Percy. For everything.”

Percy stiffened at that and Jason wondered if he’d have to restrain Nico, who was looking downright murderous. They couldn’t find out what Luke wanted, or how he was here and not dead, if Nico dismembered him.

Jason didn’t know Luke, but he knew about him. And what Luke had done was not the kind of thing you could just apologize for.

“No, said Percy. “There are some things you can’t say sorry for. Some things you don't have a right to even try say sorry for. You just have to live with what you did, or what you didn’t do, and _you don’t get to pass that guilt off_.” That got a reaction out of Nico who shot Percy an almost anguished glance.

Luke’s face twisted and then he sighed, fanning his hands out on the table. “You’re right.”

He didn’t say anything else.

“Why are you here, Castellan?” asked Nico and Jason had never heard him sound so cold and angry before. Maybe this was what he’d sounded like when he’d damned Bryce Lawrence to Hades. Reyna had told him about it (him and Hazel) because she thought they should know. Jason knew she’d kept a lot of details about the experience to herself, but Jason was familiar with what being exposed to all the innermost darkness in Nico felt like. “ _How_ are you here?”

Nico had also angled himself closer to Percy, and the air around them had grown cool enough to give Jason goose bumps. If Luke did anything to Percy, Jason had a feeling that Nico’s sword would beat his and Percy’s to the punch.

Meanwhile Luke just kept staring at Percy who had begun to shake.  Luke smiled a crooked, sad smile

“You haven’t already guessed?” asked Luke. “Nico, take a good look at me and tell them what you see.”

Nico scowled at him but then his face relaxed as he stared and stared, his pupils growing blacker than the void until he sat back in shock.

“You’re new,” he said in horrified awe. “How did—“

“They found me, stole me, and grew me back into myself,” said Luke.

“They stole you? But you’re not even…” Nico’s voice trailed off and he looked horrified.

“I know,” said Luke quietly and he looked so sad that every alarm bell in Jason’s body was ringing at once. “And I’m honestly sorry about this, but when they dig in with their hooks you have to obey.”

Luke rose up from his chair stepping onto the table with a wicked looking double edge blade suddenly in his hand. Percy jerked back as Jason rose up with his sword to deflect the strike; Nico just flipped the table over.

People screamed and all eyes turned on the boys with the swords—or whatever it was the Mist had the mortals seeing. Luke rolled back head over heels in a neat tumble, coming up on his feet like a cat. That sword… It was made with two metals: celestial bronze, and--if Jason was any judge—a well-folded carbon-steel. It was exactly like Backbiter as it had been described to Jason, but it shouldn’t exist. Kronos was gone and Backbiter had never been anything but his scythe in another form.

“Come on, Percy,” said Jason, tugging him up while Nico leapt at Luke who parried his first strike easily. The wait staff were yelling as customers fled the café.

“But, Luke,” protested Percy. “They’re controlling him!”

“Yeah, which means they’re right on our heels,” said Jason and it would be very useful to figure out how they were doing that, along with figuring out who exactly ‘they’ were exactly.

“No,” said Sky as he walked in the door, a leering smirk almost as sharp as the blade he was carrying. Behind him were Magic and a wicked looking Latin woman, and behind them was a horde of tall monsters with no heads, and mouths in the pallid gray skin of their bony chests. “What it means is: we’re already here.”


	18. Chapter 18

The Amalfi Coast

_True power is not becoming a vessel for something greater, it is becoming an exchange_

_Taking what you need and bending the rest to your purpose_

Will 

Will had quickly established that Rachel wasn’t in Naples, or at least not the city proper. He had a vague sense of her though, and set out to follow that sensation. It took him out of Naples and further south. The drive along the coast was beautiful, but he didn’t have time to enjoy it.

The feeling of Rachel pulled him toward an idyllic seaside town that looked like it was straight out of a painting. Will parked his father’s chariot and set the Mist around it to keep any mortals from bumping into it. Because he could do that kind of thing now with barely a thought. He could feel Rachel but had trouble pinpointing her, like she was a lodestone and he was the earth’s magnetic field.

Eventually he found his way to a small café where Rachel and a god Will didn’t know were sitting at a table amicably bickering over a plate that had been emptied of food long before Will arrived.

“Will! What are you doing here?” said Rachel and then her eyes widened. “Oh.”

Apparently Rachel’s gifts allowed to her to see more than just the future and through the Mist.

“Rachel,” said Will with a nod. “And you are?”

The other god smiled. “The name’s Nanabozho, Sunshine, but you can call me Nanny.”

It was odd, being a god. Will could see Nanabozho’s true form, less a figure than a sigil, a metaphysical singularity that existed below reality, below the Mist.

Being a god was a little bit like being stoned, Will had decided. Will had also decided that this explained a great deal about the gods and their behavior.

Seriously, it explained _a lot_.

“Nice to meet you, uh, Nanny,” said Will.

“Traditionally, gods greet one another as ‘Cousin’ when they are from foreign pantheons,” said Nanabozho with a grin. “And trust me, that was not a consensus that came about easily. So have a seat, Cousin. The Oracle and I were just engaging in a dialogue over current events.”

“What do you know?” asked Will as he sat down. They didn’t have much time to waste, but if this strange god had information his time wouldn’t be wasted. Rachel looked perfectly at ease and had several shopping bags by her side, which would explain her fresh clothes.

Sometimes he forgot that Rachel was Rachel _Dare,_ as in her father was worth more money than Will would ever see in his lifetime.

Of course now that he had his father’s powers, material wealth didn’t seem quite as important.

Nanabozho smiled and stirred the ice in their drink with a finger. “I know many things, the question would be, what do _you_ want to know? Perhaps something about the apostate demigods running about and making such a ruckus? Or mayhap about the political maneuverings between the twin poles of heaven, Mount Olympus and Mount Meru? The machinations of the Golden Mother of the Shining Lake? The secret dealings the sorcerer Enoch is engaging in within the depths of the resurrected Labyrinth? The last rise of Kali, which just so happened to coincide with the rise of Gaea? Or the fact that Olympus has fashioned itself a living god when every pantheon agreed such a thing was forbidden upon pain of all out celestial war?

Will blinked, more than taken aback. “Well, honestly, probably a bit about all of those.”

“HA!” laughed Nanabozho. “Well, if I am to be honest as well, I haven’t the time to tell you about any of it! Rachel, I wish you luck. If you find yourself before the conclave, know that you can count on me.”

“Count on you to what, exactly?” asked Rachel dryly. Nanabozho howled with laughed, thumping their foot.

“Exactly so, my Virgin Oracle! Exactly so. Well, must be going. Nephilim to kill, reports to make, crows to irritate. Don’t forget to leave a tip!”

One second Nanabozho was there, the next they were gone.

Rachel let out a gusty sigh and dropped a wad of cash on the table. “Let’s go.”

“Is it okay to leave American dollars?” asked Will.

“It’s fine, trust me. Where did you park—where should we go?” Will grinned, Rachel caught on fast, but she always did. When Rachel was at camp, she and Lou Ellen and Katie Gardner tended to rule the roost, especially since these days Clarisse spent most of her free time sneaking off to make out with Chris, and Drew’s social cache was the lowest it had ever been.

Of course, that was only if the _popular_ kids weren’t around.

“Over this way,” said Will. Manifesting the chariot of the sun in the middle of a terrace was within his abilities to do safely, but taxing the Mist needlessly was just… needless. Besides it felt arrogant, and Will was worried about that. The saying that power corrupts and that absolute power corrupts absolutely kept blaring in his brain like an emergency klaxon.

The ride back to Naples was fast. It got a lot faster when Will got close enough to feel that Nico, Jason, and Percy were under attack.

Rachel yelled something insulting at him as he jumped out of the car, leaving her to circle in the air. He hit the ground as light as a feather and heavy as a bomb, the force of his impact blowing out every window in sight.

The fight stopped for moment as everyone took in Will's entrance. 

“Will!” said Luke Castellan and Will goggled at him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

It was Luke, really truly Luke, and he was alive. The Hermes and Apollo cabins had always gotten along well together, just like their fathers, but Will had only just attended Camp Half Blood for the first time right before Luke stole the Zeus’s Master Bolt. He’d barely gotten to know Luke as the cool older counselor before he knew Luke as the filthy murdering traitor, and then finally as the villain redeemed.

“Well, shit,” said Death, and Nico bless his black little heart took the moment of distraction to attack her, knocking her off-balance and on the defensive.

The Mist surged around Magic, but Will stopped that nonsense with a thought, freezing him in place with the Mist caught mid-warp around him.

“Surrender,” said Jason to Sky as he and Percy ranged in front of him, forcing him to divide his attention.

“Seriously?” laughed Sky. “How about… no.”

The monsters—nephilim—turned from the Greek demigods and rushed Will. But he burned them away with a gesture, careful to keep the heat contained so it didn’t destroy everything else around him.

“He’s not a normal demigod!” shouted Magic over the fiery din as he broke Will's spell. Will didn't know if he should be able to do that, but he had. “Death, cover me!”

“On it!”  Death dropped her sword and pulled out a stone knife. It was obsidian, it looked ancient beyond belief, and it filled Will with an inescapable dread.

He pulled Nico and Percy toward him with bands of light, catching Nico around his waist and Percy by the forearm, and flew into the sky. Jason was hot on his heels a second later, and Will called the sun-chariot towards them.

For all the power he had, it seemed like the worst kind of idea to stick around and find out how the renegades were managing to do battle with gods. Until Hades pulled their wounded from out of Lucifer’s grasp they had no idea how these demigods had overcome warriors like Hercules and Briares.

Rachel waved at them from the passenger seat. Will lowered Percy into the back possibly a bit more abruptly than was comfortable, but only so he could let Nico drop comfortably into the other seat.

“Jason, take the car and head for Delphi,” said Will. “I’ll cover you guys.”

Jason said something about not even having his license but Will wasn’t listening. Driving the chariot wasn’t about technique, it was about will and determination.

Okay, maybe a bit of technique, but steering in midair wasn’t that hard. And Jason could fly so really he had nothing to complain about.

Nephilim lurched into the air, born aloft by diaphanous skeletal wings that made Will uncomfortable to look at.

“Will!” He turned to Nico who was looking at him imploringly. “What are you doing?”

“Delphi has to be cleared,” he said and drifted over to Nico and took his hand. “And the best way to get these guys off your tail is to deal with them right here. Be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to be extra careful while I risk life and limb fighting a dragon,” said Nico dryly and on impulse Will leaned in to kiss him. Nico stiffened but didn’t push Will away.

“Sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“It’s okay,” said Nico and he was so red Will worried he might have broken him. But there was no time.

“Go!” Will shouted and the car zipped off into the sky. He turned to face the coming horde of monsters.

“All right, you ugly bastards,” said Will as he raised his hands. “As the man once said: let there be light.”

And there was light.


	19. Chapter 19

Delphi

_This has been a long time coming, and nothing will stop it now_

Nico

One of the few saving graces to life and death situations was that it tended to make awkward moments pale in comparison. Nico did wish Will hadn’t kissed him like that in front of everyone, even if Jason, Percy, and Rachel all _knew._ Nico still wasn’t entirely comfortable with his whole… orientation. At least Will hadn’t tried for tongue, he might have had to punch him for that.

Still, it had been his first kiss and that was pretty cool.

He touched his lips again, imagined he could feel the tingle of the kiss still lingering, and felt almost giddy. Jason and Rachel had both offered him congratulatory thumbs up, but he’d been glad when Jason focused on driving and Rachel on helping him navigate. She also told Nico that Tanner, the boy he’d met in Montauk, was one of the renegades who’d been chasing them. That… had not been a nice revelation. It did explain why the number on his hand hadn’t disappeared after a couple weeks though.

“You okay?” Nico looked up at Percy.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” said Nico holding up his bandaged hand. Without raw magical power like Hazel had, Nico had been stuck with cruder techniques to break the tracking spell. Cutting a shallow line through the number had been unpleasant, but that’s what Ambrosia was for.

“I meant you, not your hand, but I’m glad it’s okay,” said Percy. He shifted closer and Nico reflexively tried to shift away, but there was no space in the backseat. He knew he didn’t need to worry about that anymore; it was just hard to remember sometimes.

Percy drew back immediately, looking chagrinned and a little hurt. Nico didn’t want that, but he couldn’t have Percy being so… intimate with him. Yearning for something he couldn’t have _hurt_ , and he was tired of hurting.

Sometimes Will might be a jerk, but he was also kind and cute and he didn’t make Nico’s heart ache like Percy did.

The boy in question had his hands clenched into white knuckled fists on his knees and was staring at the floor instead of the sky or landscape. Nico thought about what Percy had said about touching him and affection, and reached out slowly. When his fingers started trembling he threw caution to the wind just went for it and taking Percy’s hand in his.

Ignoring the wild look of surprise in Percy’s eyes Nico focused on how Percy had relaxed at his touch. It was like Nico had some sort of power over Percy, power he didn't necessarily want. He unfolded Percy’s hands to see the marks in his palm, where his nails bit into his skin, and gently began massaging them away.

“Nico?” Percy almost whispered.

“We can’t seem to stop hurting each other, can we?” said Nico with far more calm then he was feeling. Percy tensed up again, but Nico just kept massaging his palm until it sank away. This was as close as he could bear to be.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” said Percy quietly.

“I know,” said Nico. “It’s not your fault.”

“Some of it is,” said Percy, and Nico shrugged.

“No one’s perfect. You’ve always done your best, and when it’s counted you’ve always done right by me. You might not have been the best friend, but you still saved me, and kept saving me even when you had every reason not to.” Percy looked horrified and Nico wondered what he’d said _this_ time to get that face.

“Every reason not to? Nico, there is _no_ reason, and there never will be one, good enough for me to not try and help you,” said Percy solemnly, and then added with a ironic smile, “And even if there was… let’s be real, I’d probably ignore it anyway.”

“I know,” said Nico. That was part of why he loved Percy. He let go of Percy’s hand, but Percy turned to catch him before Nico could finish pulling back.

Percy’s hands weren’t so much larger than his anymore although Nico still had some catching up to do. They both had the same calluses from sword-fighting, but Nico bit his nails so they were too short, while Percy’s were trimmed. And Nico’s knuckles were knobby,  his wrists were bony and veiny, while Percy’s hands were broad and strong, adult looking in a way that made Nico want to hide his hands in his pockets.

“I hope you do,” said Percy, and... Oh. Nico hadn’t been this close to Percy’s eyes in a while, and never with permission to stare into them like this. “Because you’re my friend and you’re important to me. And nothing can change that.”

Percy was playing with his fingers, staring into his eyes, and telling him how important he was to him.

As a friend.

Nico could almost see Percy’s words playing back inside his head and the wretched look on his face Nico just couldn’t ignore.

He took Percy’s face in his hands just so there was no confusion about what he was going to do, and pressed a brief, chaste kiss to Percy’s lips. Something for closure, so they could both move past this and be free. Something that didn’t take more than Percy was willing to give. Something innocent.

Or at least that’s what Nico had intended. He’d wanted something that wouldn’t cross the line of friendship too aggressively, something they could come back from. But one of Percy’s hands had fallen to Nico’s knee, and when Nico kissed Percy his hand _gripped_.

Nico gasped and Percy took his open mouth as an invitation.

Now _this_ was a kiss. Nico made a helpless sound that only urged Percy on and Nico had never imagined that kissing would be like this, like a deep connection had sprung up between him and Percy through his mouth. A powerful yearning swept his body, like a wave crashing him into Percy, to kiss him breathless, as relentless as the tides wearing down the shore.

He’d _dreamed_ about this.

Nico had practically crawled into Percy’s lap before they broke for air, which also broke the whatever manic desire that had seized them. Nico’s spine ran cold as Percy’s eyes went wide and his face pale.

“Gods damn it, Rachel! You can let go now,” snapped Jason.

Nico couldn’t stop himself from turning his head to look at Rachel and Jason. Rachel had apparently been gripping Jason by his thigh to keep him from interrupting them. Under Nico’s hands he could feel Percy starting to shake and to Nico’s horror his breathing had gone shallow and fast. Too fast.

“Percy?” asked Nico. Percy stared at him unseeing. “Percy?”

“I can’t breathe,” gasped Percy dropping his head between his knees. “Oh gods, I can’t breathe.”

 “Um, guys?” said Nico his voice felt unnaturally high in his throat. “I think Percy’s having a panic attack.”

 “Damn it. Jason, take us down,” said Rachel, briskly taking control. “Nico, rub his back and tell him he’s okay. Lemme see if this damn car comes with anything—ah ha! Air sickness bag.”

Nico whispered little reassurances to Percy even as his own heart beat a thousand miles a minute. Percy had kissed him, _really_ kissed him, like he’d kiss… well, like he’d kiss Annabeth.

Everything that was unequivocally wrong about the situation summed up pretty neatly right there.

Once Nico got Percy to start breathing into the bag he began to calm down. Nico hated himself for taking pleasure in comforting Percy, in being able to touch him and soothe him, especially when he was still flushed from their kiss (he would never forget that kiss, it was seared into the core of his very being). But gods it was intoxicating, even as his heart ached and he felt terrible for Percy, for himself, and for Annabeth.

If he’d just exercised some self-control, not given Percy an opening this wouldn’t have happened. It was the last thing they needed to be dealing with on top of the usual world ending antics.

Given the same choice though? He’d do it again, not even a question. He’d kissed Percy Jackson and gotten kissed back _._ For almost the last five years of his life that had been an unbearable dream, and it had just come true. Regretting that was impossible, and he wouldn’t even try.

Someone was getting their heart broken though, potentially everyone, but Nico had a sinking feeling he was going to come away the worst off. Which only made the sliver of hope knifing into his heart, the idea that he might not lose, that he might get what he’d always wanted, cut even deeper.

“How you doing, Percy?” asked Rachel. Jason came to a stop on a barren hill top on one of the many islands scattered across the Greek coast. Nico was still stroking Percy’s back up and down his spine with pauses to gently massage the nape of his neck

“Feeling pretty shitty, actually,” said Percy, far less sarcastic than Nico expected. Nico wasn’t sure if he should pull back yet, Percy wasn't drawing away from him, but he wasn’t leaning in either. He couldn’t quite will himself to give up touching Percy unless Percy indicated he should.

“So,” said Jason and Nico could tell they were in for it when Jason yelped. “Rachel! What the hell?”

“We don’t have time for that,” she said. “Percy, you doing well enough to kill a dragon?”

“Uh, I guess,” said Percy without much conviction. He wasn’t looking at Nico, but he wasn’t shoving him off or moving away. Not that there was much room to go anywhere.

Nico hated it, but maybe he shouldn’t be making this harder for Percy than it had to be.

“I should sit up front,” he said but Rachel cut him off.

“There’s no time. If you’re good to go we have to go. Floor it, Grace!” Rachel raised her foot (Nico had to admire her flexibility) and stomped on the gas. The car shot forward and up as Jason screeched indignantly.

The sudden takeoff had pushed them closer together, and Nico moved reluctantly back to his seat. When Percy didn’t stop him it hurt, but he didn’t know what else he’d expected. For Percy to immediately renounce Annabeth and heterosexuality and fall into his arms then and there? Even if Percy was realizing (and Nico prayed he was) that he was gay, that wasn’t an easy thing, as Nico knew intimately.

The idea of helping Percy navigate that was compelling, like in one fell swoop Nico would be able to help Percy and heal his own broken feelings too.

Percy was crying. Or he was about to. Staring straight ahead at the back of Rachel’s seat, his jaw clenched and his eyes wet. Would it make things worse if Nico touched him again?

Slowly, as if against his better judgment, Percy turned to look at Nico. He looked a little wild and Nico felt suddenly unsure. If Percy was going through a crisis of sexuality (and really what else could explain everything that just happened) then he felt like the world had been yanked out from under him.

“It’s going to be okay, Percy,” he said in a low voice, trying to be calming. “I know it sucks right now, but you’re going to be okay, I promise.”

Percy exhaled shakily. “Nico, you can’t.”

“No, I can. I know how you’re feeling right now,” he began.

“No, you don’t,” said Percy sharply and then winced. “Nico, please… just don’t.”

Nico found himself wishing they would get to their destination sooner. He’d much rather be risking life and limb fighting monsters than this.


	20. Chapter 20

Jerusalem -- Mahane Yehuda Market

_Just because something is good does not mean it will last forever_

Piper

“’I don’t’ is what I should have said,” grumbled Annabeth. Piper covered her mouth to try and keep her smile back. “He’s sitting there all smug. ‘How do you want the world to end?’ Well, I don’t, how’s that? Did you know there’s a phrase for coming up with something better to say after the fact? Well, there’s more than one, actually. My favorite, you might like this, is the French: _l’espirit de l’escalier._ ”

Annabeth would, on occasion, descend into esoteric factoids when she was worked up. Piper thought it was kind of cute, although if she were honest she did tend to tune out the specifics when Annabeth got on a real roll. But if her friend needed to blow off some steam Piper was more than happy to oblige.

Besides, watching Annabeth go on a rant was fun. Her eyes lit up and she became animated and free with her movements, not constantly considering the correct option to take. Seeing Annabeth lose a little of her composure was exhilarating, made Piper feel close to her, because Annabeth, brilliant, beautiful Annabeth, valued her advice.

“Tricksters,” said Annabeth darkly. “They always have to be so damn clever.”

Piper inhaled deeply. The smell of this place was amazing, unlike anywhere she’d been before. They were sitting in the shade at a café in the mostly open air spice market while Azeban ran errands nearby for Kutkh. She took another sip of hibiscus tea and watched the people stream past them.

 “Just sitting there gaping at him like an idiot… which is exactly what he wanted!” Annabeth glowered at nothing and Piper had to wave off a woman who thought the glare was directed at her.

There was a tension in the air, but it was more mild than it might have been. The news media were freaking out over the attacks in New York and Shanghai from what she and Annabeth had seen on the televisions in shops and storefront windows. But maybe Israelis were a bit jaded by such things, especially when they were happening half a world away.

“You’d think at this point I’d know better than to fall for the dramatics,” said Annabeth bitterly. “But sometimes the world actually is ending! Only this time it was a _metaphor_.”

Kutkh had explained that the world was coming to a moment of crisis, and the status quo would be forever altered after it.

Also known as the end of the world.

“Wordplay like that is the lowest form of cleverness,” Annabeth grumbled and okay maybe Piper should say something before Annabeth griped her way into a full on sulk.

“Do you think that message is going to actually reach Chiron?” asked Piper and Annabeth gave her a look that said she knew exactly what Piper was doing.

“Yes, I do. Kutkh swore on his name he’d deliver it, but whether or not it’s a timely delivery will be depending on what benefit he thinks he can wring out of it.”

“We could try for a phone,” said Piper. “Drawing some monsters in would make for a good cover if we tried to run.”

“No,” said Annabeth after a moment. “It’s a good plan, but I vote for staying around a little longer. If things change though, that’s what we should do.”

“I can get a phone right now if you want,” said Piper quietly, her eyes trained on the doorway Azeban had disappeared into. Now would be the opportune time.

“If you think you see an opportunity,” said Annabeth with some obvious hesitation and Piper got up. “Piper?”

“Be right back,” she said. Piper walked around the block looking for a likely store, and spotted a cliché. An American tourist was yelling at a street cleaner while his wife and children tried to pretend they didn’t know him. On his belt was an older model phone, one with actual buttons, which meant no touchscreen security features. This was a more preferable option to shoplifting a burner phone from some innocent store.

Piper angled to bump into him.

“Excuse you!” he snapped after they collided.

_“Calm down,”_ said Piper as she slipped his phone out of his belt case. _“Go back to your hotel, forget about this, and relax with your family.”_

The man blinked and then turned back to his family, muttering to himself about the hotel. Piper moved on, slipping the phone into her pocket.

When she sat down at the table with Annabeth, she put the phone on the table.

“That was fast,” said Annabeth visibly impressed. Piper let herself preen a bit.

“It’s not my first rodeo,” said Piper, blowing smoke off her finger pistols.

“You’re so bad,” said Annabeth fondly. She pocketed the phone. “Really, though, I’m impressed. It took you only a few minutes to come back with a phone once you decided we needed one.”

Piper hadn’t been counting the time, too busy casing potential marks. It was nice to be appreciated. Sometimes she worried about pulling her own weight. Annabeth was just so smart and capable, and Jason was a former praetor and now some sort of high priest, and sometimes it felt she was surrounded by extraordinary people and she’d never quite manage to measure up.

Not all of the time mind, but sometimes.

“What can I say? I’m good with my hands.” Piper winked obnoxiously and Annabeth let loose a peal of startled laughter. Azeban had come out of the store and moved over to an old woman selling flowers. Shouting quickly ensued. 

“If Percy were here he’d be saying: ‘that’s what she said’ right now,” said Annabeth with a wistful smile.

“I’m excited to see them,” said Piper. It had been a couple weeks since she’d talked to Jason, much less seen him. Hearing he was okay was one thing, she wanted to hold him and kiss him and maybe even more if the opportunity presented itself.

Annabeth hummed noncommittally, which set off every alarm bell in Piper’s head.

“Are you… worried he’s still upset?” asked Piper as Azeban haggled at volume over some roses. Annabeth had told her all about her and Percy’s encounter before the boys left. Piper had reassured her and shared a couple embarrassing stories about her and Jason (she assumed he would be doing the same for Percy, but she’d still made a note to apologize to him later). Annabeth had been calm and contemplative, though she always tended to be.

“Not really,” said Annabeth. “I mean—not directly.”

Piper cleared her throat, wondering if there was any point in dancing around it. She didn’t think Annabeth would appreciate that. So, time to be direct. “What do you mean, not directly?”

“It’s just…” Annabeth cleared her throat. “I told you that was the first time we ever did anything like that, right? Well… it wasn’t the first time we had the opportunity, it’s just the first time I managed to talk Percy into it.”

Okay, that was new information. “You mean like that night you guys fell asleep down in the Argus’ hold?”

Annabeth grimaced. “That, amongst other times. Even when we were in Tartarus, as dark and horrible as it was, I thought we might… you know, comfort each other. Percy is always ready to kiss, but anything further than making out and he backs off, starts talking about the future, living together in New Rome, having a family…”

“Huh.” Piper had known that Percy had some pretty domestic dreams, but she hadn’t known how far it all extended apparently. Most boys weren’t into that kind of thing.

“I know, right?” Annabeth sighed. “And I also—and I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

“It’s just that… well, after Nico came out, I started thinking. Big surprise, I know. But I realized something: I don’t really know any gay people. I have an aunt on my step-mom’s side who’s a lesbian, but that’s it and we’re not close for… other reasons. There aren’t many out LGBT people at my school, aside from the music teacher and some drama kids, and I don’t really run with that crowd. And I think that created a blind spot. I never thought that Nico might _not_ be attracted to me, that he would have those feelings for Percy, even though with hindsight it becomes so clear I want to kick myself. It just wasn’t part of my worldview then. But now it is.”

“What are you saying?” Piper asked, covering Annabeth’s hand with her own. Annabeth kept talking, at this point almost mechanically, as though she had to lock down in order to get the words out because if she stopped now she’d never get them out.

“Percy doesn’t ever want to do anything more than make out, and his dreams about having a family are all so… I can feel how sanitized they are, just images with no backstory or substance. I think he wants to be normal, to have a healthy, normal family without violence, and I think he wants that so desperately that he’s ignoring anything about himself that might affect that dream. Like maybe the reason he barely noticed half of the girls who've fallen in love with him over the years, or how it was so easy for him to stay faithful to me even when he lost his memory.”

“Annabeth, that's because he loves you,” Piper began and Annabeth waved her point down.

“I know, I know he does. And I love him, I really do, but I’m starting to worry that he can’t love me how I need to be loved. Or the other way around for that matter.”

Piper massaged the back of Annabeth’s hand with her thumb. She wasn't so sure she agreed, but knew better than to press. Right now was time for support. “I’m so sorry. That’s a lot to have weighing on your shoulders.”

“Well, it’s not entirely unexpected,” said Annabeth in a ragged voice. “Your mom promised him his love life would be interesting.”

“She can be kind of a bitch like that,” said Piper conspiratorially and Annabeth hiccoughed, laughing through her unshed tears.

“You shouldn’t say that, she’ll be angry with you.”

“I think the gods have quite enough going on right now, they’re not looking over our shoulders,” said Piper. Besides Annabeth needed to be supported more than Aphrodite needed coddling. The gods had taken so much from them, they could tolerate a bit of backchat.

Still, it didn’t do to tempt fate. That was pretty much all of Greek mythology in a nutshell.

Azeban’s squabbling with the flower seller had turned into raucous laughter and Piper could just tell that they had started exchanging dirty jokes. Something about the way they laughed, it just sounded obscene.

“What a tough old broad,” said Azeban in an admiring tone as he walked back to them. “Never underestimate little old ladies, they’ll get you every time.”

“Where to next?” asked Annabeth.

“Hmm.” Azeban looked them over critically. It didn’t feel dirty like when Kutkh had been leering at them early. The worst part about that had been how his bad boy smolder almost made up for it.

Almost. He still skewed Piper out, and Annabeth agreed.

“We need to get you two different clothes,” he said. “The Mist is… erratic, once you get that close to the entrance.”

“ _And what’s the entrance to?”_ asked Piper, lacing some charm speak into her words.

“The Well of—HEY!” Azeban looked furious and Piper’s hand drifted reflexively to her blade. Just because he looked like he was Hazel’s age didn’t mean he wasn’t still a god, and therefore infinitely dangerous.

A graceful, tanned hand landed lightly on Azeban’s shoulder.

“Don’t make a scene,” Nanabozho said to them in a low voice. “We don’t want to attract attention just now.”

“Divine Nanabozho!” Azeban squawked and then dropped into a harsh whisper. “I wasn’t going to do anything!”

“Sure you weren’t,” said Nanabozho, and then winked at Piper and Annabeth. “Ladies, good to see you again. Rachel sends her best.”

“You were with Rachel?” asked Annabeth.

“Events have progressed significantly since we last saw each other,” said Nanabozho. “We should make our way to the Well sooner rather than later. The Greeks will be reaching Delphi any minute now.”

“But Kutkh said,” Azeban began arguing.

“Kutkh wants to make a power play,” said Nanabozho sharply. “The corvids made a poor choice when they chose him for this, why do you think Coyote and Monkey pushed for me? It’s not like they have any great love for my lot.”

“Um.” Azeban was looking worriedly at them and Piper cursed silently. She wasn’t going to be able to keep track of any of it, but Annabeth had that carefully blank look on her face that meant she was doing some very quick thinking. Piper preferred her eyes alive with curiosity though, instead of flat gray attentiveness. Annabeth was always pretty, but when her face brightened as she solved a particularly clever puzzle, she was most beautiful. At least Piper thought so.

“What? Did Kutkh tell you to keep quiet about the conclave?” asked Nanabozho with a laugh. “What an arrogant prick! Ladies, let’s walk and talk, and I’ll tell you anything and everything you could possibly want to know.”


	21. Chapter 21

Delphi -- Apollo’s Temple

_From a great hope comes a greater fury_

Nico

They came in toward Mount Parnassus from the sea. It was beautiful, the landscape bathed in a warm glow of the slowly setting sun. Enjoying the view however was out of the question. Percy wouldn’t even look at him and if Jason threw another judgmental look at him then he was gonna punch him in the face.

“All right boys,” said Rachel after Jason had set the car down. “Looks like the place is shut down for the day, but stay frosty.”

There was no response except a grunt from Jason.

“Wow, tough crowd. Look, I know you’re all stewing right now, and some of you even with good reason,” said Rachel with a pointed look for Percy who refused to meet her eyes. “But it’s game time right now, and if we’re going to do or die I’d prefer do to die.”

“We’ll be fine once we’re fighting,” said Nico, who at this point just wanted to get it over with. Percy and Jason both nodded, backing Nico up.

“Fine, whatever. You need to hike down to the spring, that’s where Python will be.”

“Spring?” asked Percy as they trekked across the grass down the mountainside.

“The Castalian Spring,” said Nico and Percy didn’t quite look at him but he gave the impression he was listening. “It’s where Python was killed by Apollo.”

“Supplicants would wash in the fountains there before consulting the Oracle,” said Rachel. “I’m planning to let you guys skate on that, but if you want to freshen up after the fight it’d be totally appropriate. And this is as far as I’ll be going, I think.”

Before them lay the ravine. Within it were the ruined fountain and the spring itself.

And the dragon.

“All right,” said Jason briskly, clearing expecting to take control. “We should—“

Percy started down the slope without a word.

“Percy—dude, what the hell?” asked Jason, ghosting down the ravine hovering a few inches off the ground. Nico moved to follow but Rachel grabbed his arm.

“Give them a minute,” she said. “We should talk anyway.”

“About what?” asked Nico flatly. “Because I’m not interested in talking about anything.”

“That’s fine, it’s really more about me talking anyway,” said Rachel. She eyed Nico up and down, the silence stretch out along with Nico’s last nerve. Finally she cleared her throat and said: “Don’t give up.”

That was not what Nico had been expected. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said and after a moment sighed. “I shouldn’t do this, but just in case things go bad…”

Nico waited for her to say something but she was busy chewing her lip, lost in thought. “Rachel?”

“Don’t let go,” she said finally. “That’s… that’s all I can give you.”

“Don't give up, and don’t let go,” said Nico trying not to sound as dismissive as he felt and then figured it was a lost cause. “Okay, thanks for the self-help slogans, I guess.”

“You know the whole vague and cryptic thing is actually important, right?” said Rachel dryly. “Preserving the nature of causality? It’s kind of a big deal.”

Nico hadn’t thought of it that way before. He’d always known that to some extent prophecies were self-fulfilling, but the way in which they were had to allow for events to happen independently.

“Okay, thanks,” he said trying to sound genuine, and started after Jason and Percy.

“Oh for—fine. Good luck, jerk!” she called after him. Nico ignored her. Advice so vague it didn’t register until after it was needed was the same as no advice at all.

Percy and Jason were paused in the trail, hidden in the foliage and the lengthening evening shadows. They were talking in low voices, and Jason had his hand on Percy’s shoulder. Nico slowed to a nonchalant creep, hoping to catch part of the conversation before he rejoined them.

No such luck. They saw him coming and Nico had to pretend he hadn’t been trying overhear them. Judging by the looks on their faces he did a poor job of it.

“So,” he said coming up to stand with them. “What now?”

He looked challengingly at Percy, but Percy met his gaze and Nico found himself looking over at Jason after a moment.

Jason sighed. “Okay, we need to talk, but we don’t have much time.”

“Why do we need to talk? It’s a dragon, we kill it,” said Percy.

“Yeah and I don’t want to see you guys—or me—get killed because we’re not on the ball,” said Jason. “Dude, you kissed Nico—“

“He kissed me!” protested Percy.

“Bullshit!” snapped Nico. “I mean, yes, but it wasn’t that kind of kiss. It was like a—a brotherly kiss! And _you_ made it into something more.”

“A brotherly kiss? On the lips?” asked Percy incredulously.

“Whatever, not brotherly then but not—you used _tongue_ ,” said Nico and Percy flushed an angry red and turned away. “Percy, please.”

“It didn’t mean anything.” For a moment Nico couldn’t breathe he was so angry.

“Okay, guys,” said Jason, making soothing motions. “This isn’t the way to—“

“So were you lying when you said you didn’t want to hurt me?” demanded Nico. “Because I can only think of one thing in my life, one thing that hurts worse than the idea that you would kiss me like that and then tell me to my face that it MEANT NOTHING, and guess what _that_ is?”

Percy looked stricken and Nico dimly regretted going there. “Percy, please. You’re not a cruel person, it’s part of why I love you. Don’t… don’t do this.”

“I have to though,” said Percy his voice raspy. Nico was dimly aware of Jason stepping away to give them some privacy. “I want to have a family, and I’m supposed to raise them right, and provide for them, and treat them right, and I can’t be a freak all my life. I just want something normal.”

“Percy…” said Nico who was 10,000% not prepared to discuss raising a family because _they were teenagers_ , but Percy clearly had some issues to work around in this area. And Nico had never been able to deny Percy anyway. “Okay, I get that. But what would you tell me if I said all that to you?”

“I—what?” Nico looked at him steadily and Percy shivered. “I guess. I mean, you can—I can do all those things. I could, if I were—gods damn it I can’t, Nico, I just can’t.”

“I know, Percy, trust me, I know,” he said moving closer slowly like Percy was a wild animal. “Remember when I told you I thought I would never be happy? And you promised me that I would be? That I could have the things I want? Well, so can you. And I want you, Percy, I really do, and I think you might want me too, and you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Why?” Percy’s voice was so small.

“Are you kidding?” asked Nico with a ragged little laugh. “Percy— _I’m_ _in_ _love with_   _you_. I had to work to fall out of love with you, and I clearly didn’t do a very good job of it. I think I didn’t really want to.”

Percy closed his eyes, pushing the unshed tears from them into delicate little drops so small they could barely be said to have fallen at all. “I. Okay. Okay.”

“Okay?” What did okay mean, did it mean everything Nico was praying it meant?

“I... liked it. The kiss. I didn’t—it’s never felt like that before, like kissing you,” said Percy tremulously. “But I can’t. Not right now. And even after, I… I have to talk to Annabeth. First.”

Nico sighed. “Right. You do.”

There was a moment of hushed awkwardness. It had been a long time since Nico let himself want something. He’d begun letting himself feel that with Will (oh crap crap crap crap that was gonna be a _mess_ ) but kissing Percy had unlocked a reservoir inside of him. Every fiber of his being wanted him to kiss Percy again. But that was the opposite of what Percy needed right now.

“It stops feeling so strange, after a while,” said Nico quietly. “It just takes some time to adjust. It helps if you let other people help you.”

He said the last bit wryly enough that Percy laughed, a short sad sound but it was a laugh all the same. “Yeah, I guess you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“I do,” said Nico. This was more than he’d ever hoped for, but he didn’t want to push it just then. A kiss might be too much, but… “Can I hug you?”

Percy stared at him for a moment and Nico tried not to let his heart wither up and die, but then Percy nodded.

He’d hugged Percy before, once or twice, the most memorable time during his visit to the infirmary. This was different. They were different.

Nico aligned his body against Percy’s, turning his head to rest it on Percy’s shoulder and holding him gently. Percy’s chest heaved with a subdued sob, and his arms came around Nico, and Percy clutched him so tight Nico could barely breathe.

It was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Jason coughed and walked up to them. “I’m glad to see you guys hugging it out, but we really do need to get this show on the road.”

Percy pulled back, and Nico wanted to keep him close, but Jason was right.

“Aw, is widdle Jason grumpy cuz he’s not getting any hugs?” said Percy, and if his voice was raw and thick with emotion, they pretended not to notice.

“So, Python,” said Nico when Jason had stopped making faces at Percy. “Plan?”

“Well, how did Apollo kill him?” asked Percy.

“Shot full of arrows,” said Nico.

“Yeah, swords probably aren’t the best idea for a dragon fight,” said Jason looking pensive.

“But we weren’t picked for our sword fighting,” Percy said, his grin at odds with his red, puffy eyes. “Chiron said it’s an earth dragon, right? So I get things shaking, Nico pulls up some skeleton fodder, and we keep it occupied while you wait for an opening, and then pew-pew master bolt away.”

“That… is actually a pretty solid plan,” said Jason. "I don't know how much more juice this thing has left though, it's not actually the master bolt."

"Then we'll have to make every shot count,” said Nico, while Percy pulled a face at Jason. His heart was still beating fast, but it was impossible to tell if it was the fact that his dreams were (maybe!) coming true, or that they were going to fight a dragon.

Probably both.

“Let me pull up some skeletons first,” said Nico. Jason held his father’s fulgurite in his hand and stared at the ravine.

Percy, however, was looking at Nico. His expression was warm, more than a little anxious, and made Nico’s heart ache so gloriously he almost forgot what he was doing.

Right time to focus. They were going to beat the dragon, Percy was going to break up with Annabeth (right? that's what that meant, it had to be), Nico would have to let Will down (he really wasn’t looking forward to that) and then…

Nico smiled, raised his hands, and woke the dead.


	22. Chapter 22

Delphi - The Castalian Spring

_The blood in our veins is not our own, so we cannot spill it in our names or for our sakes_

_Our lives do not belong to us, only our deeds_  

Jason

Of all the things he’d thought might happen on this trip, Percy making out with Nico had to be the absolute last. Technically speaking it wasn't even on the list. Of course, Jason had been operating on the assumption that Percy was straight.

To be fair, so had Percy.

It had been something of a rude surprise for all involved. At first Jason been indignant on Percy’s behalf that Nico would push him so far, and then he’d realized Percy had been the one to push it that far and he’d been indignant that he could do such a thing to Annabeth.

Then Percy had a panic attack and Jason couldn't be mad at anyone, or on anyone's behalf. They were all stewing in the same emotional hotpot. At least Percy had listened to him when Jason said he had Percy's back no matter what.

And Jason had tried to break up the kiss before it even happened, when he saw Nico leaning in. Nico didn’t know a lot about how to interact with people, and with the raw state they were all in (borderline sleep deprived and exhausted) Jason had been ready to make a big distraction when Rachel had sunk her nails deep into his thigh.

She’d stared him down, keeping him silent until the kiss had broken and then released him. Jason’s thigh still smarted where Rachel’s claws had dug in. Percy and Nico hadn’t clued in on that. They were a bit distracted, what with Percy’s personal crisis and Nico mooning over Percy.

There was going to be drama of biblical proportions when they were all settled back in camp. Which wasn’t exactly okay, but it was, at least, normal relationship stuff. Rachel restraining him from breaking up the kiss though? That meant something. That meant more than just romantic drama.

Interference from the Oracle meant destiny, and that never boded well.

Jason rode the wind, surveying the ravine. It was getting dark, which would benefit the dragon. Below him armored skeletons swarmed around Nico, pulling themselves from the dirt to stand waiting around him.

He drifted down to be in earshot. “Got enough, Nico?”

“It’s a good start,” said Nico. Pulling up this many undead without anything other than his own power, and he barely sounded out of breath. Jason knew Nico too well to be truly afraid of him anymore, but his power still gave Jason pause.

And Nico thought Percy was the strongest demigod?  Jason had always felt he and Percy were on the same level, and once he'd learned of Nico’s feelings, he figured they probably colored his judgment in all Percy-related areas. But thinking that was kind of disrespectful, especially when Nico had demonstrated a remarkably adept--and more often than not, very unhealthy--ability to compartmentalize. If he trusted Nico (and he did) then he had to take him at his word. Which meant that Percy had as yet hidden depths.

Besides, there had been that whole experience with the renegade demigods ambushing them in the mid-Atlantic. It had felt like Percy was the ocean, surrounding them and protecting them. Jason had breathed water and not drowned which was actually really cool. Flying was still better, no question about that, but he definitely had to concede the appeal.

“All right, let’s shake it and see what falls out,” said Percy, and uncapped his sword. Jason and Nico drew their swords as well.

“Nico?” asked Percy, extending his sword. Nico joined him and laid his blade against Percy’s. There was no sign of the emotional turmoil of the day, and Jason felt the last bit of his anxiety fade into the loose but tense stance of combat.

He flew higher into the air just as Percy and Nico power gripped the land around them.

The earth _rippled_ and Jason gaped as it pulsed through the ground somehow without shaking the ruins to pieces. The control had to be Nico’s doing, when Percy had tried to make them a shelter after they washed up on the beach, he’d barely managed not to collapse the entire hillside.

It turned out to be pointless. Python roared but it was impossible to tell from where, the sound filled the mountain. Then the hillside quaked and something absolutely massive rose from around the ravine.

It was the dragon Python, and it was also the size of a half dozen subway cars.

They were dead. They were so dead.

What had the gods been thinking?

Jason banked hard. The dragon was lumbering toward Nico and Percy, and Nico couldn’t shadow-travel them away. It moved fast, far too fast for something so large, and sounded like a massive grinding rock avalanche. The skeletons swarmed in front of the dragon, but they might as well have been dolls. Python barreled through them without even opening its mouth, just swaying its head slightly and smashing them under its belly.

Jason flew back toward Percy and Nico, but they weren’t lowering their swords. He banked toward the sky as Python reared up and opened its massive mouth, easily large enough to swallow a mid-sized sedan. It inhaled deeply, and Jason saw his target.

Lightning poured out of him and he funneled it straight into the dragon’s open mouth. The bolt struck dead on deep inside the beast's maw and the resulting bellow shook the mountain. The sound was so deafening Jason had to cover his ears and nearly fell out of the sky. Python’s thrashing was like an earthquake's, and dust rose everywhere. Ruins that had survived thousands of years tumbled over, and Jason didn't have time for regret because he’d lost track of Percy and Nico.

Python snapped its jaws shut and glowered at him. The rest of its body was coiling beneath it and Jason could see a lunge in his immediate future.

“Jason!” He looked down. Percy was clambering over rocks away from Nico, who was on the ground clutching his leg. “Get Nico! Hey! You! The big UGLY _WORM_!””

Python instantly swiveled its head around to Percy, because if there was one thing Percy excelled at, it was pissing off gods and monsters.

“Follow me!” he shouted, and then ran into the ravine like a complete idiot with no regard for his own safety. This self-sacrificing streak of Percy's was going to get him killed some day. Jason cursed and stooped to grab Nico, who was pale with pain and furious.

"Ignore me, save Percy!” Nico shouted.

Jason ignored him. “Ankle?”

“Yeah, maybe broken, now go—ow!” Jason shouldered Nico up.

“Sorry,” he said, and flew them toward the ravine. Python was sliding down the slope and there was no way they would be in time for a rescue.

“Faster!” screamed Nico and Jason stabbed his sword into the air before him and put all his power into flying forward.

Python reared up with a satisfied roar, prepared to strike at Percy, who neither of them could see.

Which was when the world seemed to explode. Dirt and water filled the air, the force of the explosion nearly knocking Jason out of the sky. His mouth was full of grit and he spit and coughed before Nico waved his hand and made all the dust around them fall to earth.

The ravine was now a lake of mud, and Python was wallowing in it, pinned by the hillside. But only for the moment.

“Jason!” He looked down at Percy who was bleeding from his forehead and wearing a manic grin. “Down here!”

Jason swooped down, his shrinking sword down to a coin so he could grab Percy’s hand.

Except instead of letting Jason pick him up Percy pulled them down and Jason had to land roughly on his ass so Nico didn’t stumble on his broken ankle.

“What the hell Jackson!” Jason complained. Python was shaking itself free of the hillside and regaining its bearings. It would notice them again in a moment and they needed to leave _now_.

“Percy you reckless--you asshole!” Nico was shouting. “What the hell were you thinking risking your--“

“Guys! Shut up, and swords up,” said Percy raising Riptide. “Just trust me!”

Well. When he put it like that.

Whatever else someone might say about Percy Jackson, that he was reckless and thoughtless and insensitive or whatever, they couldn’t say he was dumb. Dumb demigods didn’t last long, especially if they went questing, and Percy had faced down far more than most.

They trusted him. Jason raised his sword, and after fumbling with his left hand for a moment, so did Nico.

The moment Stygian Iron touched Imperial Gold and Celestial Bronze the world fell away from them. It was as if the universe held its breath, or like a din so loud it became a kind of quiet. Jason and Percy had done something similar once before, but it had been nothing like this. Their swords were ringing like bells, and the vibrations hurt his bones. There was too much power for them to contain.

Jason could feel Percy and Nico beside him like he had an entirely new sense devoted only to them. And just like that he saw the shape of Percy’s plan.

Nico and Percy shook the earth and pulled water up from the spring, quickly sinking the ravine into a muddy lake. Python was unperturbed by this, if anything the lack of friction made it faster as it moved toward them. Beneath the water Jason could feel Nico and Percy pulling the metals and minerals in the earth into the water. And it was so easy to build the power up inside of him, like they were all tapped into the same well now and were stronger for it.

Python drew close, not noticing the way salts and various metals had begun crystalizing on its hide. Jason found the Master Bolt fulgurite in his pocket, which still set the lightning inside him crackling just by touching it. Jason pushed their swords down toward the earth and Percy pooled up water before them. Python came nearer and nearer and then it lunged.

And Jason let the lightning fly. Electricity crackled through water as Python seized and screamed, a high-pitched, guttural, reptilian shriek that made Jason’s brain hurt.

The lightning burned out and Python collapsed with a massive meaty thump that shook the entire mountain. Dirty water surged over their feet and up their shins. Nico sagged and Jason grabbed him just in time as Percy came around to his other side.

“You okay?” Jason asked, but Nico only had eyes for Percy. Half of his face was covered in blood although being in the water had already started his head wound to healing.

“I'm fine, but Percy, are you okay? Did you hit your head?” Nico was fussing at Percy’s head wound, balancing on his good foot while Percy looked at him fondly. Jason realized that he’d never really been a third wheel before.

It definitely sucked. No wonder Leo had been so salty about it. Jason wished he was around to tell him about this revelation. He would have thought it was hilarious. Python was slowly decaying into golden dust that drifted into the wind and onto oblivion. Now that the rush of the fight was over Jason was starting to feel the past few days. He was exhausted.

“Okay,” he said. “So, what, we gotta find Rachel?” He wanted to ask if they thought Will was coming back soon, but figured the moment he did reality would come crashing back down on Percy and Nico. “Unless you guys know what to do.”

“We gotta do… something, with the body,” said Nico and Percy snorted. “What?”

“You’re pretty cute when you don’t know as much you think you do,” he said, and it was interesting to Jason, the dynamic now between Percy and Nico. If Percy had said that Annabeth, she’d have taken at least a little offense and teased Percy back in kind, possibly giving more than she got. Nico, on the other hand, practically popped little cartoon hearts out of his eyes the second he heard the word “cute” come from Percy’s lips.

Jason could already tell they were going to be insufferably adorable. If they actually paired off—well. No sense counting the chickens before they’re hatched. Or relationships before they’d begun. Percy was doing okay now, but they were all flushed with adrenaline after a fight. Jason figured their window to act before reality reasserted itself wasn’t large enough for dillydallying.

And if Percy felt he wasn’t gay, but bisexual… then if Annabeth would forgive the kiss, they were probably staying together. Either way, people were getting hurt. Jason hoped it didn’t make him a bad person if he was rooting for Nico though. The gleams of raw joy Jason had seen in Nico’s eyes since the kiss were so unfamiliar, and he didn’t want that to be so. But he couldn’t wish for Percy to choose Nico without thinking about Annabeth. He liked Annabeth a lot, and he didn’t want to see her hurt either.

It was a shitty situation. And it all came down to Percy and how he felt. That kind of pressure wouldn’t be good under the best of circumstances. Jason felt for all of them.

However, even though Python was dead, now wasn’t the time to push for answers. Pushing at all was a bad idea, but Jason had no idea how to navigate this kind of thing. Complicated emotions and relationships were Piper’s forte.

He missed her so much.

“So was it just me, or did you guys think that seemed a little too easy?” said Percy, and Jason was relieved Nico wasn’t so besotted with Percy that he wouldn’t trade long-suffering looks with Jason.

“I'm pretty sure my ankle is broken,” said Nico testily, “and now I’m pretty sure that _you_ have concussion. So no, I don’t.”

“What? You broke your ankle? Why didn’t you say?” Percy patted his pockets down quickly. “Do we have any ambrosia? I bet there’s some at the car, we should head back now and set it.”

Jason had already pulled out his emergency flask of nectar, which was only half full, but would at least take the edge off Nico’s pain when someone spoke behind them.

“Oh please,” said Sky. Jason turned around and saw to his horror every renegade demigod they had met so far along with a few they hadn’t, twelve in total, arrayed behind them. Along with a few hundred nephilim. “Don’t rush on our account.”


	23. Chapter 23

Jerusalem 

_It is natural to dread things hidden in shadow_

_For who knows what manner of evil lurks in the dark?_

_Now look up from the shadows into the light. See something worse_  

Annabeth 

Annabeth fiddled with the phone in her pocket, just for something to occupy her hands. They’d been waiting for an interminable amount of time at this cafe and if she drank any more tea she’d have to go to the bathroom yet again.

“The waiting is always the worst, isn’t it?” said Nanabozho.

“It’s the waiting right before the potential end of the world that’s the worst,” said Annabeth tartly and Nanabozho laughed.

“So says Wisdom’s Daughter!” Annabeth narrowed her eyes at Nanabozho.

Of all the questions Annabeth had asked the only one that she hadn’t gotten something of an answer for was why gods kept calling her Wisdom’s Daughter. They didn’t call Piper Love’s Daughter, and the only other time Annabeth had been referred to that way was in the prophecy that Ella gave her about the Athena Parthenos.

The last thing she wanted was to be the focus of another prophecy, especially if it was just her. She’d seen how being the Chosen One wore on Percy, and she wasn’t sure she could bear that weight just now. Not that she’d have a choice if that were the case. Percy had…

Best not to think of Percy if possible. Worrying about him fighting Python would only make waiting even worse. She still composed a silent prayer in her head to the gods to keep him and the others safe. Although, technically speaking, he was safer than she was. Will was with him, and as she understood it, he had his father’s power now. The ramifications of that were massive in scope. If a demigod straddled the line between the gods and mortals, then a living god erased it.

Which was a problem, because there were reasons the gods could not just do as they pleased and that Fate operated through mortals. According to Nanabozho it hadn’t always been so, and the gods had nearly torn the world apart once with their warring. When the dust settled, Olympus and Meru had been left standing the victors. Other pantheons (the Norse, the Bantu, the Egyptian, the Shinto, etc.… ) survived to varying degrees, but many were lost. Some pantheons were survived by only a single god. Endlings was what Rachel had called them when she’d explained some of this in the Labyrinth.

Aside from Olympus and Meru and the few, scattered surviving pantheons, there were three great neutral powers. There was Lucifer Morningstar, the Lightbringer, who Annabeth already knew of and plenty about, but Nanabozho also told her about Hsi Wang-mu, the Golden Mother of the Shining Lake, and Tezcatlipoca, Lord of the Smoking Mirror. There were others, but none strong enough to call their citadels a sanctuary.

Within their little fiefdoms, they were allowed to exist technically out from under the control of Olympus or Meru. Because there was an arrangement, a grand celestial treaty that kept the peace between the pantheons and the endling gods. Also, because the balance of power between Olympus and Meru was precarious and the creation of neutral territory kept the endling gods out of their way.

And _then_ there were the tricksters. Apparently mostly unbeknownst to the great pantheons they had formed a conclave and divided themselves into groups based on an archetype.

Raven was the dominant archetype, but only because Crow voted with them as a unit and between the two of them they kept the others in line. Fox was always at odds with Coyote, which prevented Coyote from corralling the other canids into a block, and Monkey, Spider, and Cat all hated each other so much that if any one of them ever gained influence over the conclave war would be sure to follow. Avatars of lesser archetypes like Raccoon or Mouse Deer were left to flock to one group or another but were of little consequence in the end.

And no one but _no one_ trusted Snake.

Nanabozho was a rabbit god, technically a hare, but also a shapeshifter like many tricksters. And like many shapeshifters, gender was more of a hobby for him than something innate. But Annabeth knew there was more to the politics of the tricksters than Nanabozho had let on because Nanabozho ordered Azeban about without hesitation. And when Kutkh had rejoined them he’d been almost wary of Nanabozho, although not exactly respectful. All of it raised even more questions for Annabeth.

But there had been much more to learn, and little time to learn it in.

“It’s been hours, Nanabozho, he’s not here,” said Kutkh with a sneering smirk. “The council will be displeased you dragged me into another wild goose chase.”

Nanabozho hummed noncommittally and sipped his tea.

Piper gave Annabeth’s elbow a light tap. “Down the street.”

Annabeth turned to look. There was a nephilim shambling down the street, picking its way almost delicately across the cobblestone street. Periodically it would pause and raise its stump of a neck, twitching like a hunting dog trying to catch a scent.

“Filthy creatures,” muttered Kutkh. Watching it filled Annabeth with a particular sort of pity.

Nephilim weren’t the children of humans and angels; they were made from mixing mortals with immortals, though. And the way it was done was unusually gruesome.

When Enoch had plucked a small shining shard from Oya’s body he was harvesting her vessel, the husk left behind after her divine power fled her body to reincarnate in her throne. Enoch had the magic to pluck that from the air, to steal the shape of the Mist around the god's divine essence, and stabilize it. With that he could drain the power of a god right from their throne without even being near them, exactly what the Olympians had feared would happen to Apollo. But Enoch didn't only steal the divine power. Instead, he kept creating vessel after vessel until the aspect of the god that wasn't divine was extinguished, and then...

Then he made people eat the vessels. Humans eating divine flesh, like a horrific inversion of the Eucharist.  And those hapless victims became nephilim as they knew them, their mortal flesh twisted about with divine blood and mortal essence. Ultimately they were hollow vessels, but even hollow they were strong enough to battle gods. At least, they were in suitably large numbers.

If they weren’t so very dangerous, Annabeth might have qualms about killing them. Given all that, she thought death was probably a kindness.

But there was no room for regrets in war. Those came after.

“Can it sense us?” hissed Azeban.

“Only if Nanabozho screwed up,” said Kutkh with a sneer. Nanabozho returned a mild look that still made Kutkh flinch back.

Annabeth made another note in her mind. There was no way that Nanabozho was just another trickster, not with the way Azeban and Kutkh treated them. There was a deeper game being played here, which Annabeth had already suspected, but now she was finally getting her hands on enough pieces to put together some of the puzzles.

“O _Gitche_ _Manitou_ , there’s another one!” groaned Azeban. A second nephilim was now coming up the street.

“Yes, we’ve been surrounded for a while now,” said Nanabozho, taking another sip of his tea.

“Have you finally gone completely _mad_?” said Kutkh after a moment of gaping.

“Kill a single nephilim and we spook Enoch,” said Nanabozho mildly.

“And let him bring enough in and we can’t escape,” said Annabeth with far more sharpness than she typically used on immortals. “Especially those of us who aren’t shapeshifting gods.”

Annabeth would never have talked back like that to a Greek god, not even her mother--perhaps especially not her mother. The tricksters were far more informal. They also seemed to be… not weaker necessarily, they were still gods. But they didn’t move with the inherent arrogance of the Olympians that Annabeth had met over the years. Although Nanabozho had a capable confidence that was far more impressive--if much less intimidating--than arrogance backed by the threat of force.

Nanabozho sighed. “I suppose that’s a fair concern. I wouldn’t worry too much. Enoch isn’t particularly concerned with demigods.”

“Other than the ones he has running around doing his dirty work,” said Kutkh with a leer at Piper. “Don’t worry, ladies, I’ll protect you from the nasty jumped-up sorcerer.”

“You’ll keep your hands to yourself, or I’ll give you a pair of new ones,” said Nanabozho with perfect equanimity and Kutkh paled despite the oddness of the threat. Odd at least to Annabeth, and Piper judging by her raised eyebrow. Azeban watched his two superiors spar with a hunted look. “Anyways, we don’t know for certain that Enoch is ordering them around.”

“As opposed to? You know he wouldn’t suffer anyone to order him about but Yahweh,” said Kutkh sullenly, but without any real aggression. “And he’s far stronger than mere demigods, even ones powerful enough to try and challenge gods.”

Privately Annabeth thought that Enoch hadn’t seemed so powerful when she had her makeshift knife pressed to his throat. It had been a bit of a gamble; clearly Enoch had some method of preserving his life, like Daedalus. Except that Enoch had preserved his body and relative youth.

“I thought he was nothing but a jumped-up sorcerer,” said Nanabozho, entirely too placid about poking the bear. Or raven in this case.

“He’s still only a mortal,” said Kutkh almost snarling. “And no mortal is a match for me.”

“If you say so,” said Nanabozho. “I must confess that I am curious as to how he’s prolonged his life cut off from his master.”

“Yeah, he looked awfully young to be called Grandfather,” said Piper.

“What?” asked Nanabozho, his eyebrows drawing together.

“The apostate demigods, they called him Grandfather,” said Annabeth. “One of them, Sky, wanted to know if they should bring us back just before the nephilim attacked.”

“And that other one, Love, was definitely yelling about how Grandfather would sort it out before the nephilim separated us,” said Piper.

Nanabozho’s lips were moving like he was talking himself through something very quickly. His lips set into a grim, narrow line. “They must be speaking in an ancestral sense. Perhaps that’s how he found them. He’s not been able to sire children for millennia.”

“Why not?” asked Piper.

“Because Enoch is the first and the only true nephilim,” said Nanabozho. “All these others are knock-offs he’s forged in a pale imitation of what Yahweh once did to him, and apparently he’s been stockpiling for the last few thousand years because Meru and Olympus are _still_ under siege. I shudder to think of how many bodies are littering New York and Shanghai now. Regardless, his bloodline should be far too thin for him to yoke this many demigods together.”

“Well, what if they’re working for him willingly?” asked Annabeth. Nanabozho looked surprised by the idea and then concerned.

“If Enoch can bind together demigods from disparate pantheons and endling gods, turn them against their parents, and bend them to his will…” Nanabozho bit his lip. This worried Annabeth; she hadn’t seen Nanabozho ever be anything other than amused or bemused.

“Grow yourself a pair and hold it together,” said Kutkh mockingly. “We stick to the plan. Once Enoch enters the old city we follow him to the Well of Souls. The Guardian won’t let him in the tomb itself without a representative of one of the great pantheons in tow; we find out how he intends to accomplish that, and then kill him before he does.”

Annabeth felt confident that the political machinations Nanabozho had told her about were buried in the step between following Enoch and killing him.

“So… you don’t really need us?” asked Piper.

“Oh no, we do,” said Kutkh with a scowl. “Enoch is like the giants of your mythos, and he must be killed be a god and a mortal together.”

“Then… he let us go,” said Annabeth and Piper looked at her fearfully.

“I didn’t realize you were unsure on that front, Wisdom’s Daughter,” said Nanabozho. “Of course, he let you go. Enoch has enough magic to challenge endlings like myself and my... companions, and an army of monsters powerful enough to lay siege to both of the Great Pantheons. Admittedly, it’s a doomed enterprise, but that only means his actual goal requires a certain amount of distraction. So the question we must ask of all this is: why did he let you go?”

“When that Tanner boy talked to Nico it was to put a tracing spell on him,” offered Piper.

“There are no enchantments on you, active or lingering,” said Nanabozho. “I checked. Whatever his purpose is in the Well, and I think we can all make a fair guess towards _that_ , he must require you for it at some point.”

“We can?” asked Piper, who had been left out of the majority of Annabeth's discussion with Nanabozho when she and Azeban went out for supplies. Certain necessities had been lost since Enoch captured them, and Piper had volunteered to go. Annabeth's mind had been swimming with so much new information she'd forgotten to tell Piper one of the most important things she'd learned.

“Yes, sorry, Piper,” said Annabeth and then took a fortifying breath. But Nanabozho beat her to it.

“The Well of Souls is both the channel for the Mist _and_ Yahweh’s tomb,” said Nanabozho and Piper’s normally healthy brown skin took on a dreadful pallor. Even Kutkh and Azeban were serious now. Annabeth reached over and took Piper’s hand. Piper clenched back hard.

“It’s God, Piper,” said Annabeth. “He wants to revive God.”


	24. Chapter 24

Delphi – The Castalian Springs

_Do not yield to your fear_

Percy

War sneered. “’Don’t rush on our account?’ That’s the last time you do the banter, Sky.”

“Seriously, dude,” said Sea and Percy was pleased to see that he was still pretty banged up from their last encounter. “Just because it sounds cool doesn't mean it makes sense.”

Percy didn’t see Luke anywhere. Had that _really_ been Luke back there? Nico had said so, but maybe Nico didn’t know. He’d refused to explain more than that, and then… then there were other things to talk about.

_Nico was kissing him so gently, so sweetly and he’d known what was coming, but he hadn’t expected it to wake something inside him, like a wave of longing that swept him up and away. He’d squeezed his hand reflexively on Nico’s thigh and then Nico had opened his mouth and then--_

“Enough chatter,” said a thickset middle-aged woman who was easily the oldest person present and built like a fortress to boot. Mud caked her short, militant gray hair and her clothes were torn and sooty. Percy realized that all of the renegade demigods looked the worse for wear. “We’ve got work to do

Well, if they’d just been fighting gods that made sense. What didn’t make sense was that they’d survived to come here and ambush them.

Percy edged around slowly. Jason was supporting Nico, and he could fly them out of here. There was plenty of water. Percy could keep the demigods occupied long enough for Nico and Jason to escape. He shifted his grip on Riptide as the woman gave her group instructions.

“Plan?”  Jason asked in a hushed voice.

“You two get out of here,” said Percy and they both immediately disagreed with him.

Well, tough for them. Nico’s ankle was shot, and Jason was the one who could fly.

“Love, handle them,” said the woman who was clearly in charge. A pretty brown skinned boy sauntered toward them, along with the guy who’d flirted with Nico in Montauk trailing behind him.

Percy desperately wanted to punch that kid in the face. Tristan? Tyler? Something like that.

_Nico’s lips warm against Percy’s his mouth almost sweet and Percy had never felt so drunk with desire, not even when Nerites had almost seduced him just by breathing, and not even when he and Annabeth spent the night down in the hold gently making out until their jaws were sore. Never felt anything like it before. Nothing._

_But that meant—it meant—_

_“_ All right you three _. Freeze,”_ said Love and every muscle in Percy’s body seized for a moment. He struggled against it and felt something inside of him almost _flex_ and Love’s hold broke.

Skimming across the top of the water as he’d learned from watch Sea, Percy flung himself into the air at speed straight at Love. Before the other boy could react Percy slammed into his chest knee first.

He rolled off Love’s body, uncapping Riptide as he did. Sword in hand he called his power up and threw a wall of mud at Tanner (that was it!) who vanished in the murky wave.

“Aw, crap—Moon, War, Trickster, take out Jackson. Death, Magic, you’re with me. The rest of you get those two up and then establish a perimeter; we’ll have gods incoming any minute once they dispose of the remaining nephilim.”

“But _Mira_ ,” whined Messenger and to Percy’s mixed shock and horror, Mira backhanded her, sending the girl flying.

“You will call me Smith as Grandfather ordered, or I shall tear your tongue out, and you will call me nothing,” said Smith. “The rest of you MOVE.”

The demigods spread out, with three advancing towards him and Jason and Nico. Jason and Nico were still frozen, which was confusing, but Percy knew better than to try and solve a puzzle like that in the middle of combat. Still, he had totally knocked that Love guy out, or, at least, knocked the wind out of him. Either way he hadn’t gotten back up, so his hold should have been dropped.

“Hello, again, Percy Jackson,” said Moon

“Rematch time,” added War with a leering grin.

“This one is extra shiny,” said a vacant-eyed girl who Percy identified as Trickster by the process of elimination. “He smells like _everything_.”

That brought Percy up short. Apparently he wasn’t alone because Moon and War stopped and stared too.

“I can’t tell if that’s better or worse than being told I smell like the sea,” said Percy. Trickster tilted her head to one side in confusion like a dog.

“She ate truffles again, didn’t she,” said Moon flatly. War closed her eyes and shook her head in dismay.

“Mushrooms only grow on dead things,” said Trickster with a solemn nod as her body began to swell and transform. “And I am so very, very hungry.”

She fell forward to the ground like a tiger. Literally, she was a tiger, except her fur kept shifting in unsettling patterns. Behind them, the other trio of demigods were busy cutting Python open.

“Who decides to trip on the most important day of their lives,” said War as she limbered up. “That’s what I just can’t understand.”

“Wait, she’s _high_?” asked Percy.

“I know, right?” War gave Percy a terribly commiserating look considering they were about to fight each other. Trickster growled at War, and the patterns on her fur began to dance, black entwining with orange and hints of red. The three enemy demigods moved to try and circle Percy. He couldn’t back up much farther, or they’d separate him from Jason and Nico, who were still frozen and vulnerable.

He was out of options. He couldn’t take on three at once, much less all twelve of them, but Jason and Nico were still frozen in place, and he didn’t know when Will or Hades or any other god might arrive.

Do or die time once again.

Percy grabbed every bit of water he could feel around him and pulled it inward. He skated back toward Jason and Nico. The ground exploded as mud and water flew towards him, and he swirled it around like a shield.

Moon had vanished the moment the air filled with dirty water, but War and Trickster barreled right through straight toward him. Percy directed a wall of mud their way; Trickster’s tiger body swelled again and by the time the water hit her she was an elephant. A bull elephant with huge tusks, which would have given Percy pause for a moment but War hadn’t even slowed down from a deluge that made an elephant stagger. She came at him without mercy.

The first swing of her sword the force was so hard that Percy’s arm went numb. He couldn’t fight her head on; he had to keep moving like when he fought Ares. That time he’d only won by being faster than his far more powerful opponent. But Ares had been a massive man; War was shorter than Percy, although no less formidable for it. And she almost hit as hard as Ares had. But no matter how hard she hit, she still had to breathe.

“Here, have a mud pie!” said Percy. The mud covered her head in a lopsided shape that could charitably be called a globe, and Percy held it there. She lunged at him, and he parried instead of trying to block.

He felt more than saw the blow coming next. One of Moon’s crescent knives whistled over his head as he ducked and rolled back. With a twitch of his wrist, he shifted the mud under her feet, and she went head over heels. Once she was down Percy bound her with more mud, bands of dirt and water lashing her to the ground. Unfortunately, that meant he took his eyes off Trickster.

The elephant stampeded him, and he had to roll away. War finally clawed off enough of the mud-ball to take a gasping breath. Percy shifted the mud under Trickster, but when she teetered over she only slipped shape into a massive salt-water crocodile.

“Aw man that is just not fair,” complained Percy.

“Fair is foul, and foul is fouler,” said Trickster, and it was extra surreal hearing her high-pitched girlish voice come out of a crocodile, mostly because crocodiles didn’t have lips. “Everything tastes like chicken right now.”

“You are definitely going in the top five of my Crazy People I've Had to Beat Up list,” Percy told her.

“ _You_ ,” snarled War, murder in her eyes as she marched toward him. Behind Percy Moon was levering herself up, although unsteadily. “I’m going to drown you in a lake of your own blood, boy.”

“You know I can breathe underwater, right?” Percy said lightly.

Fighting was a non-starter, not while he had to keep an eye on Nico and Jason. It was just too risky. He needed to get them out of here. If he could get them to the Chariot, then Rachel could take off, and Percy could hold the line. For as long as he could manage. He reached for as much water as he could get find with his mind's eye.

“We got it!” shouted Death, standing in the gaping steaming hole they had cut in Python. Out of the hole stepped their leader carrying a massive carved stone over her head. "We have the Omphalos!"

Several of the demigods cheered. There was no delay between Percy seeing their attention drift and him moving. Getting Jason and Nico out of danger took priority. All the water around him trembled as his hold on it grew stronger; when he grabbed Nico and Jason he was going to blow up the entire ravine to cover their escape.

Or Percy would have had he gotten the chance. Instead, when he grabbed Jason, his body seized, like he’d just completed a circuit, and now lighting was stabbing into every muscle in his body. Percy sagged when the seizure left, but Jason and Nico were now free.

Immediately the ground began to quake, and the air grew thick with cold. As the earth pitched and rolled several of the enemy demigods nearly lost their footing. Everything green within eyesight began to wither and die as skeletal hands clawed through the soil. Nico was waking more of the undead than Percy had ever seen him do before though Jason didn’t look at all surprised by this.

The stab of jealousy that raced through him at the knowledge that there was still more Jason knew about Nico than he did was followed by a flood of panic.

He didn’t want to think about it.

“Percy, you okay?” asked Jason, still supporting Nico. The enemy demigods were cutting the skeletal warriors down with ease, except that every second more of them ripped their way free of the earth. Nico’s face was pale with strain and pain; sweat ran down his cheeks like tears.

“Yeah, you guys gotta go now, though,” he said.

“Moron,” said Nico, but he wasn’t angry. He looked powerful and fierce, and the look in his eyes shook Percy down to his core. It was a determination that said Nico would stand by Percy no matter what came their way.

Percy couldn’t handle this right now.

“Not leaving without you, bro,” said Jason grimly, and Percy loved his friends, but sometimes he wished they’d just _listen_ to him.

Jason shrank his sword down so he could transfer the fulgurite to his other hand. Almost immediately the hairs on Percy’s body not weighed down by mud began to rise, and his skin tingled. The smell of ozone filled the air. Flickers of lightning danced up and down Jason’s arms.

“Guys, we could use a hand over here,” called War.

“We don’t have time for this,” bellowed Smith. A skeletal warrior lunged for her back, but its blade glanced off her like it was just a prop weapon. She absent-mindedly shifted the Omphalos onto one shoulder and reached back with her free hand to crush its skull. “Magic, cover me. Everyone else get to the temple--on the double!”

Smith began to trudge slowly up the hill toward the Temple of Apollo. Her gait made Percy think that even though she was unnaturally strong the big rock, or Omphalos whatever that was, on her shoulder was still taxing her. It must be heavier than it appeared to stagger her strength.

Magic, the boy who last Percy had seen, was coughing up blood courtesy of Lucifer, stepped toward them as the other demigods swarmed up the hill. He seemed pretty healthy now.

“We have to stop them,” said Percy.

“We can’t,” said Jason and Percy knew that but--

Magic pulled back his hoodie and Percy inhaled with a sharp hiss. The boy’s eyes were gold without iris or pupil, just an unending inhuman gleam.

“ _Sesengenbarpharanges_ ,” he said in a soft voice. The syllables slithered over Percy’s skin like snakes, leaving an icy shiver in their wake.

“No,” gasped Nico. “That’s impossible.”

Behind Magic Python’s corpse twitched as its wound sealed. Magic grinned and snapped his fingers. “ _Abrahadabra_.”

Python’s eyes flared open, dead and unseeing. Its body spasmed and flexed.

“Apparently it isn’t,” said Percy and Nico gave him a look that said “Really? Now is the time?” and he shrugged. The sass didn’t shut off for anyone, and Nico knew that.

“Stow the chatter and get ready guys,” said Jason in that chiding tone where he clearly thought someone needed to be mature and take charge, and it always fell to him. Nico rolled his eyes, and Percy grinned at him.

And then Nico _smiled_ at him, a look of happiness that Percy hadn’t seen on his face since he was a little boy, that he’d only recently started seeing hints of after Nico came out.

For a moment, the rest of the world fall away from him as he remembered The Kiss. Then a flash of Annabeth’s smile slid over Nico’s in his mind’s eye, and it broke the spell.

His chest hurt.

“Guys, focus,” said Jason and Percy’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. Nico looked utterly unrepentant.

Python reared up shakily. Magic turned his back to them and walked past Python up the hill. “Kill them, and then devour yourself.”

Python let loose a silent roar that shook the mountainside, fell back to earth, and charged.


	25. Chapter 25

Jerusalem – The Temple Mount

_Most are loyal only because they find it useful_

_Do not trust those who conceal their desires_

Piper

Enoch didn't arrive until dusk just as the stars began to poke little gleaming holes in the night sky. The waiting was difficult; nephilim were everywhere patrolling the streets, the rooftops, and even wandering in and out of buildings. All without any mortals the wiser for their presence.

As the people thinned out on the streets the worshippers came up from the Wailing Wall. Piper had never seen so many orthodox Jews together in one place outside of New York. Lots of black hats and coats covered with white prayer shawls. And they were all men, of course.

Piper had always believed in God in a distant sort of way. But her grandfather’s stories always seemed more real to her than the old white man in the sky. Then she’d discovered there were gods, and that had been that. Only there were more gods than she’d known, and now it turned out God really was real. Except he was dead, and not like the philosophers said, he was actually dead. And entombed in the Well of Souls. Where they were planning to follow Enoch.

Because Enoch wanted to bring Yahweh back.

Death was a difficult condition to both put a god into and then keep them there. A god might fade away easily enough, but that was by choice, a decision to let go rather than hold on. The only way to kill a god was to tear them apart so completely that their divine form could never come back together, like Leo had done with Gaea. And that was what the gods had done with Yahweh.

Only it hadn't worked. Because even torn apart by the mightiest gods in the world Yahweh did not fade. He was not alive, but neither did he truly die. Rather he became inert.

The war against Yahweh had resulted in the Axis Mundi, an accord between the twin Great Pantheons to balance their power and keep Yahweh in his tomb. Because if the gods went to war they could crack the world open, and what were gods without their worshippers? So they made the Mist the agent of fate, or causality, as Annabeth had put it, that all would be in order and to protect the earth from their true power. They chained their divine forms into mighty thrones and anchored them far away from the world, so that only a sliver of their true power would be brought to bear, unless certain conditions were fulfilled, certain requirements met.

Prophecies and demigods. Tools of the gods. 

Piper reflected that she was only getting progressively more cynical with each quest.

“He’s here,” said Nanabozho, silencing Azeban mid-ramble (the longer they had waited the more nervous he had become, and Piper had never seen a god be nervous before). “Let’s go.”

They wandered through the largely empty streets. Every time they passed one of the nephilim Piper repressed a shiver. There was something so _wrong_ about them, and now that she knew how they were made it was even worse.

Annabeth’s hand slipped into hers and squeezed reassuringly. The girls traded looks, communicating silently. They were a good team, although Piper would feel a bit more comfortable if they had some muscle with them. It didn’t have to be Jason or Percy either, she’d love to have Frank or even Clarisse around.

They turned the corner and the Dome of the Rock—the entire Temple Mount—came into view. The dim light and long shadows made it difficult to see, but Piper could see enough to make out hundreds of hulking headless gray figures.

The area was thick with nephilim standing practically shoulder to shoulder. They milled around aimlessly, unaware of them because of whatever magic Nanabozho was working.

“There,” said Kutkh, pointing at the Wailing Wall. Enoch was striding up the wooden bridge there that connected to a gate onto the temple mount. Curiously none of the nephilim followed him or showed any indication he would. But there was someone trailing behind him, a young man, though Piper couldn’t make out much than that.

“Come on,” said Nanabozho.

“Oh no, no, no, no, I didn’t sign up for this,” said Azeban staring at the nephilim.

“Shut up, pest,” said Kutkh and slapped him on the back of his head. Azeban whimpered and Piper wanted to do something, but they were gods.

“Kutkh, if you touch Azeban again I’ll feed you to the nephilim,” said Nanabozho without turning around. Kutkh quailed and Azeban slunk over to stand by Nanabozho.

“What are you thinking, Nanny?” asked Annabeth.

“We need to move past them, and my enchantment won’t work if we’re in physical contact with them.” Nanabozho smiled grimly. “He really is very shrewd.”

“How?” asked Piper.

“The nephilim,” said Nanabozho. “He knew he could never replicate Yahweh’s ability well enough for the army he needed to conquer, so he isn’t conquering. He amassed a great deal of coin, and now he is spending it.”

“You almost sound like you admire him,” said Piper and if she sounded a little reproachful then so be it; Nanabozho didn’t mind.

“No, Nanny’s right,” said Annabeth and Piper felt a pinprick of betrayal at Annabeth for not siding with her.

“The nephilim are his chief resource, and he had to wait until he had enough of them for everything he intended to accomplish,” Annabeth continued, taking Piper’s hand in silent apology, because she knew; they were attuned to each other. “No wonder he’s waited 2000 years.”

“Longer than that, but yes,” said Nanabozho. “Any ideas, ladies?”

Piper looked at Annabeth, but Annabeth was looking at her.

“Piper once sang Kekrops into submission when we needed to reach Acropolis,” said Annabeth. “Her charm speak is really strong, do you think it’d work on the nephilim?”

“The shriek didn’t exactly do much,” Piper felt obligated to add.

“No, it wouldn’t have,” said Nanabozho looking at Piper speculatively. “The nephilim are already broken creatures, pain has no effect on them. Annabeth might be on to something. Can you sing for me, Piper?”

The last time she’d sung one of her dad’s favorite songs, Summertime. She took a deep breath and began to sing.

Azeban stared at her in wonder and Kutkh was looking at her with a hunger that made her skin crawl. Nanabozho was smiling. Piper stopped singing and the air hung with silence.

“What a wonder,” said Nanabozho quietly. “You have--as they say--the voice of an angel, which is perfect for our purpose. Do you think you can sing until we reach the Temple Mount?”

“Yes,” said Piper. “If you think it will work?”

“I have no doubt, your voice is… captivating.” Nanabozho turned a quelling look on Kutkh, who glowered back at them powerlessly. Piper had already resolved to keep an eye on Kutkh, but now she was thinking maybe it should be both eyes and possibly a ready hand on her dagger.

“Azeban you can go, tell the council what we’ve learned,” said Nanabozho. Azeban scurried off before Kutkh could protest.

“You know, you’re not in charge here,” said Kutkh. “Just because you’re one of the—“

“Enough, Kutkh,” said Nanabozho sharply. “You forget yourself. Now, let’s go play a trick.”

They walked down to the nephilim and Piper sang Summertime. She almost faltered when the nephilim began to look at her—or at least trained the stumps of their necks at her. It was incredibly creepy as gradually every one of them came to a stop and oriented themselves toward her.They remained trained on her the entire way. But Annabeth was by her side, holding her hand and giving her support. By the time they walked up the bridge to the gateway Piper’s throat hurt and her voice was almost breaking on the high notes.

“Very good, Piper,” said Nanabozho as they crossed the threshold. Piper cleared her throat and when Annabeth offered her a sip of nectar she took it gladly.

The Temple Mount was empty but beautiful, and the Dome of the Rock gleamed even at night.

“The King of Jordan paid for it be re-gilded,” remarked Annabeth absentmindedly. “It’s beautiful, but why are there are no people around? Shouldn’t there be security?”

“If they haven’t been put to sleep, then I imagine the nephilim have eaten them,” said Nanabozho bluntly. Piper felt sick. “Come, Enoch must be entering the Well. We need to see how he plans to deal with the guardian.”

“What is the guardian?” asked Piper. Kutkh snorted derisively.

“Not a what, a who,” said Nanabozho. “The greatest mortal warrior to ever live: Gilgamesh.”

Piper had no idea who that was, but Annabeth gasped.

“Pfff,” went Kutkh. “You overpraise him, he’s a brute with just enough strength to back up his ambition.”

“Are you pledging to clear our way through the Deeper Well?” asked Nanabozho and Kutkh scowled at him so hard the air warped around them for a second. “As I thought.”

“Why would Gilgamesh agree to guard the Well?” asked Annabeth.

“You know the story, you know what he wanted most, Wisdom’s Daughter,” said Nanabozho. “His immortality is contingent on being the guardian. A very tidy solution to a particularly messy problem; I think Ganesha was the one who finally roped him into it.”

So Gilgamesh had wanted immortality, and the gods had given it to him with one hell of a string attached. Piper had a feeling that Gilgamesh might be extra good at his job because he’d have a lot of aggression to work out.

“So he’s strong?” asked Piper.

“He is one of the greatest warriors humanity ever spawned,” said Nanabozho. “He became so powerful the gods of his day had to address him directly. It is rare for mortals to do such a thing, rarer still for them to become like unto gods themselves. Picture an older version of your Hercules, but his immortality was not gifted to him, he amassed it by dint of his sheer strength and will.”

“It’s not like he was the first mortal to rise up,” groused Kutkh.

“No, but he is the only one remembered, his is the only story that still lives,” said Nanabozho. “The rest are dead and forgotten.”

“Not by all,” said Kutkh ominously. Nanabozho didn’t respond except to roll their eyes.

The Dome of the Rock was even more beautiful up close. Piper wished she could see it in the daylight and appreciate the colors of the tiles and the glint of the gold dome, but it would have to wait. The interior was beautiful as well, although eerily silent. Although the inside was beautifully wrought it surrounded an unrefined section of stone, the ruins of the Temple.

They walked down the staircase. Piper and Annabeth had been surprised when Nanabozho didn’t stop or even attempt stealth.

“He’ll be inside already,” said Nanabozho as if they could read Piper’s thoughts. “Whatever he’s going to do to get past Gilgamesh won’t be simple, but we must be quick.”

The interior was a small space, and there was something about the juxtaposition of the ancient stone and modern lighting and the signs of recent use. This was an ancient space, a holy place, and people still used it. It seemed almost profane for them to step foot in here, and yet it was worship they brought with them, and how could that not be holy?

So many of the ruins they had been in were dead ruins, places where the gods had been worshipped once and the shade of that worship was all that existed now. This place was different. People still prayed here, and there was power in that, power sunk deep into the stone.

“You can feel it, can’t you,” said Nanabozho.

“Yes,” said Piper and Annabeth in near stereo. She grinned at Annabeth who grinned back.

“Where did he go?” asked Kutkh. “I see no entrance.”

“Of course not,” said Nanabozho. “This is the mortal entrance. Just as Delphi is the oracular entrance, and Uluru is the divine entrance.”

“What?” squawked Kutkh sounding more raven than man. “How the hell do we get in there then?”

“With the mortals who will guide us,” said Nanabozho, gesturing to Annabeth and Piper. “If they are willing to be our chariots.”

Piper looked at Annabeth. She tiled her head. Piper did micro-tilt with her head to Kutkh and Annabeth nodded. Nanabozho could probably be trusted at this point, but Kutkh needed watching. And they’d come this far already.

“What would we have to do?” asked Annabeth.

“Oh, nothing much,” said Nanabozho with a little smile. “Just die for us, is all.”

 

* * *

 

“No!” shouted Annabeth. “ Just—No. I refuse to deal with any more of this clever crap. Stop being so _gods damn obtuse_ and just tell us what we need to know!”

Piper covered her mouth with one hand because the bug-eyed look on Nanabozho’s face was utterly sublime. Even Kutkh looked taken aback.

Annabeth coughed, her face flushed a pretty pink, and visibly collected herself. “My apologies, Divine Nanabozho, Lord Kutkh. I let my anger get the better of me.”

Piper was prepared to do her own sweet talking but Nanabozho didn’t look angry, although Kutkh had begun glowering before Annabeth apologized.

“You are a series of revelations, Annabeth Chase,” said Nanabozho after a moment, their eyes now crinkled with amusement. “And I told you to call me Nanny.”

“Sorry, Nanny,” said Annabeth.

“Well, you can call me Lord Kutkh all you want, pretty lady,” said Kutkh with a leer.

“If you keep talking to Annabeth like that I’m going to hold you down while she neuters you,” said Piper and Nanabozho crowed with laughter. Annabeth smiled at her. Kutkh glowered and cast a sulky glance at Nanabozho, but didn’t say anything.

“Ah, you two bring me such happiness. Love and Wisdom, hand in hand,” said Nanabozho wiping little tears of laughter from their eyes. “Now, Annabeth, as you so eloquently put, I was indeed being clever. Each gate to the Well calls for sacrifice to enter, unless you are one of the great pantheon’s ruling triumvirates of course.”

“Of course,” said Annabeth dryly.

“And this is the mortal gate to the Well of Souls,” said Nanabozho. “Which means the price it asks is one that only mortals can pay as they pass. And that price… is life. It claims your soul.”

Annabeth opened her mouth again angrily but Nanabozho beat her to it.

“I’m not being clever when I say that,” said Nanabozho. “This door is the easiest to walk through, but it demands the greatest price you can pay. Once you enter the Well you cannot leave again. Or you can, but only your body would come out.”

“I assume you have a plan, then?” asked Piper because Annabeth had that look on her face that said she couldn't think of anything nice to say and was restraining herself.

“Of course! As I said there are two other entrances,” said Nanabozho and paused to consider his words. “Well, two we can use. So we shall go in this door and come out another.”

“And which door would that be?” asked Kutkh with a sneer. “They can’t pass through the divine door and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to anyway. And none of us can use the oracular door to begin with.”

“Oh!” said Piper.

Admiration rapidly replaced Annabeth’s irritation. “So _that’s_ why you went after Rachel. That’s really rather clever.”

“I thought so, too,” said Nanabozho modestly. “Now, who wants to die first?”


	26. Chapter 26

Delphi

_No more lies_  

Nico 

Python barreled down on them, a thousand tons of undead dragon silently roaring as it careened over the muddy field. Nico almost reached for the shadows before he remembered himself.

“Jason, go!” shouted Percy and took off _running toward Python_.

“Percy!” Nico called after him as Jason cursed and flew them up. “Jason stop we have to go back—“

“You can’t fight,” said Jason without a cruel bone in his body, but it hurt all the same. “And we can’t fight if we’re worried about you.”

The water in the ravine had been soaked into the earth making a massive muddy gorge, but water was rumbling up from the springs beneath them. Nico could feel it and could feel Percy calling it up through the soil.

“Jason, put me down,” said Nico and when Jason protested he kept going. “Trust me, please.”

Jason, to his credit, didn’t hesitate. He dropped down and settled Nico on the ground, only long enough to make sure he didn’t fall, and then shot off toward Percy, who was doing his best just not to get mushed.

Nico groaned as his ankle throbbed. He wasn’t sure if it was broken or sprained, but either way it hurt too much to walk on with only a sip of nectar in him. He felt weak and shaky, he’d used his powers so much today. Even a few weeks ago doing this much would have left him unconscious, now he felt unsteady but he was recovering. If he had some ambrosia and someone to check his ankle he’d be fine.

Will could check his ankle, if he were here. Probably heal it too with his fancy new powers. He wouldn’t be too happy with Nico though. Not once he found out...

Well, what exactly he would find out was still up in the air. Nico didn’t want to count his chickens before they hatched. But if he came out of this with Percy as his boyfriend, well.

He liked Will--a lot--but he’d loved Percy for so long it felt like forever.

Pulling a single skeleton out of the ground normally was easy as taking a breath. Now it was hard to focus with the pain, but Nico was used to pain; it was the exhaustion that clawed at his efforts.

Nico was pulling up a second skeleton when the ground shook. He looked up and gaped.

A massive hand made of dirty water had grabbed Python around the base of its jaw and pinned it to the ground. Every time Python bucked the ground shook but the hand did not move. Above the thrashing dragon hovered Jason, a giant bolt of lightning gathering in his hand.

He let fly and the lightning hid the water arm. Python’s head exploded, raining chunks of dragon meat everywhere.

Jason descended and then reappeared in Nico’s sight with Percy. Nico waved at them and Percy waved wearily back, but they were both grinning that grin you get when you survived near certain death.

“We did it,” crowed Percy and then they all stopped.

From up the hill at Apollo’s Temple there came a great light and a sound like a bell ringing in Nico’s bones. His teeth hurt and his ankle blazed with agony. Then the hillside hushed for a moment, before the air blew gently out like Gaea herself was exhaling from the Temple.

The corpse of Python twitched. The dragon’s head was slowly reassembling itself; undead flesh knit itself back together and teeth realigned as the massive dragon reared up once more.

“Crap,” Percy said with feeling.

“Okay, guys, here’s the plan,” said Jason quietly as Python snapped its jaws to make sure all of its teeth were in order.

What Jason’s plan was Nico never got to find out. From the sky there was a whistling sound that rapidly grew louder. They looked to the sky just as the clouds parted and moonlight rained down in a hundred thousand little lances.

Python roared in silent agony as the arrows found their mark and burned the dragon into nothingness. A moment later Artemis descended from the sky with streams of pale light trailing in her wake and flew into the Temple without giving them so much as a glance.

“Well, that was convenient,” said Percy after a beat. “New plan?”

“New plan,” agreed Jason. “What is it?”

“That,” said Nico, pointing down the mountain slope. The hunters of Artemis were running towards them, some riding on their wolves. Nico saw Rachel to his surprise astride the largest wolf, Thalia easily keeping pace beside them.

Nico looked at Jason pensively, he didn’t know how close Jason was with Thalia, although he was pretty sure they’d met. Nico knew what it had felt like when Bianca left him to join the Hunters, but it wasn’t exactly the same. He and Bianca had a childhood together, seventy years of it in fact, though a lot of it blurred together. But even in that blur Nico felt the knowledge that Bianca had been with him, and he could even take comfort in it these days.

Jason gave no sign of any qualms on his face, although Nico would be the first to say that meant little. Jason kept his problems buried because he didn’t think he was allowed to have them.

Without Piper around it was up to Nico to make sure Jason didn’t give himself a stress aneurysm. Percy could help, but Nico was never quite sure how to navigate their bromance. It had rhythms and behaviors that were foreign to Nico for a variety of reasons.

Nephilim trailed the hunters. The hunters were doing some pretty cool maneuvers to cover themselves, but their arrows didn’t hinder the monsters for long. They just tore them out of their mottled gray hides and resumed pursuit.

“Jason!” Thalia shouted as they neared. “Who’s injured? Hunters! Keep those abominations off our backs! Epicyon, slow.”

Thalia’s wolf was enormous. Not quite as massive as Mrs. O’Leary but large enough for Rachel to easily ride, her hands gripping the ruff of Epicyon’s neck to keep steady.

“Nico’s ankle,” said Jason, his voice a little high, and Nico didn’t miss the way Percy squeezed Jason’s shoulder supportively. “And we’re pretty beat up too.”

“Yeah, you look it,” said Thalia gruffly as she fished out some Ambrosia for them. “Lemme have a look at this first Di Angelo. Percy, good to see you.”

“Mmheythalia,” mumbled Percy around a mouthful of Ambrosia. Thalia’s fingers were cool when she touched Nico’s ankle and he hissed in pain.

“Can you stand on it?” she asked briskly.

“Kind of,” said Nico.

“Probably not broken then, here,” she said practically shoving a square of Ambrosia in his mouth. Sometimes it tasted like the biscotti his mom used to make, or Bianca’s favorite sugar cookies.

This time it tasted like Percy’s blue birthday cake.

“You guys look like crap,” said Rachel from astride Epicyon. “Thalia, how long can your hunters keep those nephilim busy?”

“As long as needed,” said Thalia sternly. Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Okay, then let’s not need long. Last one there’s the reason the world ended! Hiyah!” Epicyon took off, treating them to the look on Thalia’s face as her wolf ran off with the Oracle.

“Not. A. Word.” Jason was biting his lip and Nico couldn't quite cover up a snort of amusement. Percy didn't bother, he just laughed and started up the hill. Nico's ankle felt better, but he wasn’t up for running on an incline.

“Come on,” said Jason and then he _scooped Nico up._ “I know you hate it—there’s no time. Yell at me later.”

Nico shoved the rest of his Ambrosia in his mouth to keep from commenting.

 

* * *

 

The temple was gone, or at least the ruins were. No more columns, walls, remnants of any buildings had been wiped from the earth. Except for the Omphalos. It sat in the empty space alone, silent and somewhat menacing. Nico expected it to glow or show some sign of life, but it just sat there as a stone.

“Uh, where did everyone go?”

“Through the door,” said Rachel. They all looked at her, except Nico.

“Put me down,” he said. Jason tried to kneel and winced and suddenly Percy was supporting him, gently lowering him until his feet touched the ground. His ankle was still sore and running on it just yet was out of the question, but it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered while Percy was holding him.

“What door?” asked Thalia. “Where is Lady Artemis?”

“I assume she followed them,” said Rachel, feeling the Omphalos. “The door only closed a moment ago.”

“Followed them where?” asked Jason. “Into that?”

“Yes, and no,” said Rachel. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. We have to go in after them.”

“Go _where?_ ” demanded Thalia.

“The Well of Souls,” said Rachel. “I can explain once we’re in, just—hold on a moment.”

“How’s your ankle?” asked Jason. Percy pulled away slightly and Nico didn’t want to let him go, but he mastered himself and let it happen.

“It’s not going to be good to fight on.” There was a scream from down the mountainside and Thalia twitched, but didn’t turn around.

Rachel placed her hands on the Omphalos and started humming. Mist began to pour out of the Omphalos, raw magic that swirled around them. Rachel breathed it in deep and exhaled.

The colors and shapes of the world bled away. Nico felt stretched out of proportion, dizzy and unable to breathe. Thoughts were itching in his brain like spider eggs just hatching, and he wanted to laugh and cry and scream all at the same time.

Yet at the same time he somehow knew it could be much worse, that something kept this madness enough at bay so he could pass through unscathed. Then the world resettled around them. They were in a cave, the walls were roughly carved from solid stone. Ahead of them was light and behind them was darkness.

Nico reached out with his sense and found—nothing. Only more stone, stone forever as far as he could feel.

“Where are we?” asked Percy. Rachel opened her mouth and staggered before she could speak. Thalia and Percy both rushed to her side.

“That was… harder than I thought. Can’t,” she shook her head. “Dreamtime. Hard to think. We’re in the Well, where the Mist comes. We have to go that way.”

She pointed toward the light. A moment later the light flared and there was an explosion.

“Oh good, more fighting,” said Percy.

“Speak for yourself,” said Thalia with a bloodthirsty grin. She moved forward, a handful of arrows clutched in one fist. “I haven’t killed anything other than nephilim today.”

“Thalia, wait,” hissed Jason. “Come on.”

They followed Thalia, Nico walking gingerly on his somewhat-healed ankle.

When they reached the end of the tunnel Thalia ran out into the open with a war cry, quickly followed by Jason and Percy. Nico stayed slightly behind, his maneuverability was shot, and someone had to protect Rachel.

The tunnel opened into a massive stone chamber, its domed ceiling hundreds of feet tall. Holes ranging from the size of a finger to large enough to crawl into covered every part of the dome. If Nico focused he could see the Mist rising up into them.

The dome was oriented with four major entryways like a compass. The entries were decorated unlike the holes, carved elaborately into the stone. The floor was slanted down towards its center, where the Mist rose up from a hole. Nico could just make out what looked like greenery, maybe leaves? The whole room was crudely carved, and something about this place felt ancient and primal, powerful beyond measure.

Death hung heavy in the air. Not a specific death, just the feeling of death itself. It was difficult to articulate, but Nico had never felt it outside of the Underworld except at its entrances.

The renegade demigods were fighting Artemis, who was furiously screaming at—Apollo? He stood staring slack-eyed at nothing, with another man standing beside him, someone Nico didn’t recognize. He was an adult and quite dapper looking.

“Release him!” she bellowed, her sword glancing off the magical shield the man was had over him. “Release him now, Enoch, or I’ll bury you next to your thrice-damned master!”

Apollo didn’t look quite alive. He was staring straight ahead, face as blank as a board, jaw slack and drooling.

“Oh good, more demigods,” said Enoch, ignoring Artemis. It seemed that she couldn’t break his shield, although he couldn’t move or do more than keep her at bay. The renegade demigods came at her but she shrugged them off like raindrops. And now Thalia, Percy, and Jason were engaging them.

Nico clenched his sword. He wanted to help, but he’d be a liability, especially without his shadow powers. There were no dead to pull up here, although he was drawing some strength back from the raw feeling of death around him.

It didn’t feel great but it did the trick.

“Not just demigods, Enoch!” Two men were emerging from the entrance behind Enoch, and behind them were Annabeth and Piper.

“Nanabozho! So glad you could make it,” said Enoch so sarcastically he could give Percy a run for his money. Rachel put her hand on Nico’s shoulder.

“We need to get to the Tree,” she said quietly.

“There’s a tree down here?” asked Nico.

“The only tree that matters is down here,” she told him. They both winced as a bear batted Percy into Jason. Thalia was fighting Moon and War at the same time, but Annabeth and Piper were stuck behind Nanabozho and whoever the other guy was.

Annabeth… The reality of the kiss was drawing nearer. What if Percy didn’t—what if he decided he wanted Annabeth still? What if she still wanted him?

“ENOUGH!” Artemis bellowed and white blinding light filled the room. An immense pressure hit Nico and he buckled to the floor. Rachel did the same and they were almost in a pile, but Nico couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but exist and feel crushed.

“My father should have killed you at the end of the great war, Enoch,” Artemis was talking somewhere Nico didn’t know where her voice was everywhere, the sound of it deafening but he could still understand her. “Still, be glad it’s me who found you, for I will give you a clean death, though it is far more than you—“

The light and pressured vanished just as a loud boom sounded. Nico looked up to see Luke (Luke?) holding Artemis by the throat with one hand, her feet dangling off the ground.

“Grandfather!” several of the renegades called out.

“You’re late, Ravana,” said Enoch sourly, picking himself up off the ground and dusting off his jacket. “What kept you?”

“Your nephilim were insufficient,” said Not-Luke, whose name was apparently Ravana. “I had to battle my way past a dozen lesser devas to reach the entrance. I nearly wore out my vessel.”

“Liar, that vessel bore Kronos, it can bear you as well.” Artemis clawed at the hand holding her by the throat and Ravana tightened his grip. "And don't tell me you didn't enjoy killing Vishnu's little errand boys."

“Nanabozho,” said Ravana, not acknowledging Enoch's comment. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Thalia, Jason and Percy were drawing into a defensive position, falling back to Nico and Rachel.

“Why?” asked Nanabozho. “Because you thought we wouldn’t care about your plans? Or because Kutkh was supposed to have stabbed me in the back by now?”

There was a pregnant silence. The other man—Kutkh—suddenly grabbed his own throat, eyes bugging out of his head as he choked himself. His hands were gleaming, like they were made of metal, and distinct from the rest of his body. Annabeth and Piper both looked surprised, but not shocked.

“I see,” said Ravana looking at Piper and Annabeth, before his eyes flickered over to Nico. No—to Rachel. “How very… clever.”

“Not half so clever as you, though,” said Nanabozho ruefully. “You're up to your old tricks again. This isn’t about Yahweh at all, is it?”

“Only indirectly,” said Ravana. Artemis kicked him in the face, the force of the blow created a shockwave Nico felt like a wave of bass from gargantuan speakers. Ravana didn’t flinch, or even show any sign of injury. “As it seems all things in creation are these days.”

“Grandfather,” said Magic coming to stand before him. “The gods approach.”

“They will find the way more difficult to navigate than anticipated,” said Ravana. “Still, it does not do to delay. Enoch, shall we?”

Luke’s body fell back and slowly revealed another form beneath it, like an overlay of film being peeled back. The man revealed was old indeed, his massive dreadlocks were gray bordering on white, and his beard was much the same. His gnarled old hand and skinny wrist still held Artemis aloft though. Luke’s body fell limply to the ground, his eyes unseeing, and then tumbled into the pit.

“Luke!” It was hard to tell who shouted his name louder, Percy or Annabeth.

“Yes, let’s,” said Enoch with a smile, putting one hand on Apollo’s shoulder. “Children, kill the intruders. Ravana?”

In one swift movement the old man drew back a claw-like hand, and then ripped Artemis’s still beating heart from her chest.


	27. Chapter 27

The Well of Souls

_Once, you were naïve_

_You did not know what it costs to protect the things you care about_

_Now you know better_

Annabeth

The first drop of ichor hadn’t even finished falling from Artemis’s heart when Nanabozho flung himself at Ravana and Enoch. Strange shapes appeared in the air around him, and when Enoch held up a hand to make a glowing shield Nanabozho’s fist struck it so hard it sang like a gong. The sound rattled Annabeth’s teeth.

“This way,” she said, grabbing Piper’s hand reflexively. They sprinted around the pit toward Percy and the others as Nanabozho ripped Enoch’s shield apart with his bare hands, to Enoch's consternation.

“Ravana!” called Enoch warningly as Ravana dropped Artemis’s body.

“Children,” Ravana said without turning around from Apollo, and the renegade demigods attacked Nanabozho en masse, driving him off Enoch.

Ravana. The Sorcerer King of Lanka, and God-Emperor of the Three Worlds. A powerful, ancient demigod descended from a demonic bloodline, he was the chief enemy of the Ramayana epic. He had been a scholar of great renown, a learned man with a mastery of magic and combat powerful enough to challenge his own gods, and take what he pleased from their peoples. Ultimately, he was vanquished by Rama, the last avatar of Vishnu, and the only warrior capable of countering his strength. Annabeth had never imagined…

Well, she’d never imagined any of this.

“Jason!” Piper overtook her to rocket into Jason’s arms. He swung her around and then kissed her like she was keeping treasure in her throat he could only get out with his tongue.

That might have been uncharitable, but only because as Annabeth drew near something kept her from doing the same with Percy. Something in her heart and in Percy’s eyes. Just in case though, she walked up to him and they hugged and that was easy. They’d been friends before they’d been in love. But it wasn’t the same, she could feel it.

“Annabeth,” Percy whispered and he sounded so sad it broke her heart. ”I.”

“Not right, now, Seaweed Brain,” she said through barely restrained tears. “We have to save the world first.”

“Story of our lives, right?” Percy managed to say wryly through the sob lodged in his throat.

“Guys, we really don’t have time for reunions,” Rachel shouted. “Thalia, Jason, clear a path. Piper, Annabeth, you’re with me. Percy, Nico, bring up the rear.”

Nico wouldn’t look at her, which Annabeth didn’t have time to worry about because Thalia and Jason had just grabbed each other by the hand and begun throwing lightning around like it was confetti. The room crackled with heat and the stench of ozone almost made her dizzy. Sky ran up to deal with the lightning but was fast bowled over by their combined efforts.

Until Thalia screamed broke ranks to run screaming at Ravana, who… was feeding Artemis’s heart to Apollo.

_Gross_.

“He’s going to poison the Well!” shouted Rachel over the din. “He’s going to use tainted blood to poison Fate itself!”

Blood pollution, just like Tantalus, Annabeth thought. Strange lights and sounds came from where Nanabozho battled Enoch, and the occasional scream as one of the renegade demigods got too close.

“No one knows what that means!” Percy shouted back.

“The Well is the channel for the Mist,” yelled Annabeth, who couldn’t pretend she didn’t enjoy the way the others looked relieved that she knew what was going on. “All magic comes through the Mist, it's the medium for the gods’ power, and they want to destroy it. See that hole? We need to get to the Tree.

“There’s a tree down here?” asked Percy.

“Thalia!” Jason screamed as she was bowled over by a broad, middle aged muscular woman. Even if Artemis was already re-forming on her throne, seeing her taken down like that had to have an effect on Thalia.

Nanabozho and Enoch were still fighting tooth and nail, in Nanabozho’s case literally. Every spell that Enoch flung at him melted off whatever shape he was wearing as he shifted into another. It hurt her eyes to look at, but was also hypnotic and hard to tear away from.

“Moon,” said Ravana in a quiet, conversational tone that still cut through all the din and went straight to Annabeth’s ear and lodged itself in her brain. “Bring me my sword.”

His voice was a ‘gift’ from Shiva, if she remembered correctly. A result of being pinned under a sacred mountain, a divine punishment--for his arrogance in thinking he was stronger than Shiva--that lasted thousands of years. According to legend Ravana had screamed in agony the entire time, past the point of losing his voice out the other side. He could only whisper now, but it was a whisper louder than any shout.

Sometimes, Annabeth thought darkly, the gods really did bring these things on themselves.

Piper ran up to cover Jason’s back while he kept the area around Thalia clear. Luckily most of the enemy demigods had their hands full trying to keep Nanabozho from killing Enoch and Ravana. Enoch was clearly taxing himself trying to hold of Nanabozho, but Ravana had eyes only for Apollo slowly consuming his sister’s heart.

Apollo who should be dead, but very clearly wasn’t. They'd focused so much on Apollo’s power, his throne, that they had missed the alternative, that it was his vessel the renegade demigods were after. The vehicle with which they could enter the Well and poison the Mist, twisting it to whatever purpose they desired. Power, Annabeth assumed, because if the gods lost their ability to control the Mist… well, they would certainly be made weaker. Vulnerable to whatever plans and purposes Enoch and Ravana held in store.

Of course how they overpowered the gods to begin with was still a bit of a mystery. But if they were wielding god weapons like Chandrahasa, Ravana’s legendary moon-blade, that could go a long way toward explaining that as well. God-weapons to fight gods.

Piper was helping Thalia up and Annabeth ran to her. Jason had a shield of wind and lightning held before him that a couple of the demigods were hammering on—well Sky was hammering on it, War was just trying to press through. Her strength didn’t matter at all when Jason put a gust of wind under her forceful enough to pick her off her feet, but then Sky would press him and he had to refocus, dropping her back to the ground.

War was making progress, very slowly but steadily.

“Um, Annabeth,” said Piper and she followed Piper’s eyes to see one of the demigods—Death judging from Piper’s description of her—hold aloft a strangely shaped obsidian blade over Kutkh’s still twitching prone form. She brought it down on his chest and began prying him open.

“Ew,” said Rachel from behind her.

Ravana was talking to Apollo. “You know, Apollo, I heard you once taunted Achilles, at Troy, that for all his might he could never catch you, could never kill you, because you are a god and death is not your fate.” Ravana leaned down and whispered in Apollo’s ear as he ate the last piece of Artemis’s heart. “Now look how far you have fallen, sun god, and despair at how much further you have still to fall.”

 Ravana pushed Apollo into the pit, his limp body vanishing quickly from view.

“Children,” Ravana said in his eerily soft, yet always audible voice. “Attend to these pests, and then wait for my signal.”

He stepped into the pit after Apollo, gray braids of hair flowing behind him as he vanished into the Mist rising from the darkness.

“Blast you, Ravana!” shouted Enoch, and leapt after him, Nanabozho hot on his heels.

“Did he really just say that?” Percy half-laughed. The enemy demigods were regrouping to focus their attention on them.

“Everyone hold hands!” shouted Rachel and grabbed Annabeth’s hand and Jason’s. “If you don’t we’ll die!”

“They’re going into the pit!” shouted War.

“Let them—the guardian can deal with them,” said Sky disdainfully.

“Jason, you go first,” said Rachel as Piper and Thalia and the rest chained on to Annabeth’s hand. “With the fulgurite!”

Jason showed Rachel the fulgurite.

“He carries the mark of Zeus’s master bolt!” shouted Smith in alarm. “Stop them!”

“Don’t let go or you’ll die,” said Rachel as the enemy demigods turned on them. “Everyone in!”

They jumped into the pit.

 

* * *

 

It was like falling into Tartarus, just enough to make Annabeth’s heart beat too fast and her breath come too shallow. But it was different enough she didn't panic. For one thing, it wasn’t just her and Percy falling into a black void, their friends were with them. And there was the Mist itself, streaming past them. It curled around them as they fell, warm and a little damp, dragging a tingle down Annabeth's spine as it passed over her, like a hot breath on the nape of her neck.

“What’s happening?” demanded Thalia, her eyes still red from watching Artemis’s vessel get torn apart. “Where are we going?”

“To the Deeper Well,” Rachel told them. Annabeth barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes, although she was glad of the distraction, Rachel took the vague oracular statement thing a little too far in Annabeth's opinion.

“The Well of Souls is where the Mist is infused by the Axis Mundi,” Annabeth recited from Nanabozho’s explanations. “We were just in the Breathing Room, which is the conduit that spreads the Mist all over the world. This is the actual Well we're falling into. I assume at the bottom is the guardian, and Yahweh's tomb.”

“Got it in one,” said Rachel. “Classic Annabeth.”

“Wise Woman,” added Piper.

Both of these were far preferable to Wisdom’s True Daughter, or whatever cryptic prophetic nonsense that was about.

“Are we falling straight down?” asked Jason. “It feels like we’re circling something.” Annabeth had no idea how he sensed that but Rachel confirmed his suspicion.

“There isn’t really up and down here,” she said. “This place is more dreamtime than reality.”

“Just tell me when it’s over,” Thalia groaned, her eyes shut tight.

“I can see the bottom,” said Rachel. “Jason, you might want to start making us an air cushion.”

“I can do that?” said Jason which was somewhat worrying.

“Yes, you can,” said Rachel with the deliberate patience of someone who knew that if they weren’t patient they might die. “And sooner than later would be good.”

“Uh, okay.” Jason started doing something, Annabeth couldn’t quite make out his motions from only the vague glow around them. But the Mist and air beneath them began to thicken into a wall of wind that slowed their descent.

“Okay guys, we’re getting close, brace for impact,” said Rachel and Jason grunted as the wind around them buffeted them with greater force. Piper whimpered as Thalia’s hand clenched around hers.

Suddenly, there was light around them, and they fell into gloriously lush green grass that cushioned their fall almost as much as Jason’s air bubble. It still knocked the wind out of Annabeth and Jason, who she and Rachel both half landed on.

“Oh gods,” moaned Thalia. “Solid ground.”

“A little too solid for me,” hissed Piper. Annabeth levered herself up and surveyed their surroundings while Jason helped Piper up. 

They were in some sort of garden, beautiful beyond description, with flowers and birds Annabeth had never seen before. Cool air felt refreshing against the warmth of sunlight, though there was no sun visible in the clear blue sky. A single massive tree dominated the garden, its trunk so swollen and thick that it opened like a chamber. Inside it was a vast pool of golden, steaming ichor, at the center of which sat an eternally burning flame. This was the heart of the Mist, the lowest emanation before existence became more conceptual than concrete. It was also Yahweh's tomb.

Rachel stooped to pick up something she’d dropped in the fall, it looked like a lucky rabbit's foot.

Annabeth noticed all of this only peripherally, however. Over the years she’d developed the habit of reflexively searching for Percy before taking stock of their surroundings, a habit that had only been honed further in Tartarus.

Percy had landed on top of Nico. That wasn’t so unusual, or even worth remarking on. What had Annabeth frozen and staring though was how they were looking at each other. The fear in Percy’s eyes and the naked longing in Nico’s. Nico reached up to touch Percy’s cheek, and Percy flinched but didn’t move off him, didn’t break eye contact either.

He was shaking like a lost lamb, and Nico was his shepherd. She felt sick, and angry, and betrayed and oh gods somehow the worst of it all was that she couldn’t stop a little trill of satisfaction because _she’d been right yet again._

Percy noticed her staring and scrambled off Nico. Nico’s head sank back with a thunk as Percy stared at her in raw terror that made her heart ache and furious. How dare he look at her like she was going to hurt him! He was the one hurting her! It wasn’t her fault!

It wasn’t his either.

Laughter distracted her, distracted all of them.

At the base of the great tree lounging on a crude stone throne covered in the animal hides was a powerful man with a wineskin in one hand. He was probably in his late 30’s, wearing only a loincloth so that all of his tanned, scar-marked skin was on display. His beard was thick and black, his eyes beetle browed to match. He was handsome after a fashion, but there was a feeling of barely restrained malice and violence about him that put Annabeth in the mind of Ares, or Kutkh.

Ichor dripped from his fingers staining the grass around him. Traces of ichor long since dried marked the stones around him. Immortals had been killed here before. Beside the throne lay an axe, an ancient looking thing that Annabeth just knew was sharp as any more modern looking blade.

“And what have we here?” said the man in a deceptively cultured tone. “Some comely gifts from the gods for Gilgamesh, who does his duty so well? Being the guardian does grow lonely, but little demigods like you will break under me before the night even truly begins.”

Oh good, more of the innuendo.

“We demand entrance to the Deeper Well, and we bear the mark of Olympus,” said Rachel, and nudged Jason. He raised the fulgurite and Gilgamesh laughed, raising his wineskin in a salute.

“So you do! Well, then in you go,” he leaned forward with a feral smile. “All of you together, now, or I’ll have to stop you like I did that silly rabbit.”

“You killed Nanny?” gasped Piper.

“Killed? No,” said Gilgamesh flopping back on his throne, his unceasing smile seemed less a sign of humor than it did a shield against the madness of his own desires. “Broke? Yes.”

“There’s no time!” said Rachel and they ran past Gilgamesh who only laughed and laughed.


	28. Chapter 28

Well of Souls – Yahweh's Tomb

_Revenge is the poison of righteous men_

Jason

They ran after Rachel, the urgency in her voice erasing anything other than the imperative to follow her. The inside of the tree was huge, and hot. Sweat ran down Jason’s temple within moments of stepping foot inside. A burning lotus flower, no bigger than a grapefruit, sat in the ichor pool, and the heat it put out was almost unbearable. The interior of the tree was scorched and in some places even burning like coals.

The pool of ichor descended from a fountain, a single block of pure white stone. Ichor flowed from the top of it and cascaded into the pool, where the lotus boiled it into Mist. A ramp rose up around sides of the room that reached around the back of the stone, which is where Ravana and Enoch stood a few yards apart, Apollo kneeling equidistant between them. Behind them, Luke’s body slumped against the wall like a discarded doll.

Enoch broke off spell-casting to glower at them. “Your children need disciplining, Ravana.”

Ravana ignored him, which seemed to infuriate Enoch. “Fine! I’ll handle it.”

“Don’t worry about trying to take him out, just keep him occupied so I can reach the fountain,” whispered Rachel to them.

“Nico, how’s your ankle?” asked Jason.

“Good enough,” he said and Jason had to trust it was. As Enoch walked down the ramp on his side toward them.

“You know, it's been ages since I got my hands dirty,” said Enoch as the shadows drew strange shapes behind him on the scorched wood. “It's something I was really looking forward  to, when I regained my true power. I held off all this time, truth be told, so I could savor the moment when I was once again able to kill gods. This is… disappointing.”

“Well shucks,” said Percy and Jason was torn between relief that Percy was being sassy, and incredulous irritation that he was still joking. “Now I feel all bad and stuff.”

“You’ll feel naught but pain when I’m done with you,” said Enoch. In his hand appeared a flaming sword, and behind him the shadows swirled into six dark wings that flared out from his back.

Enoch flew toward them, slashing the air with his sword and springing a huge gout of fire at them. Jason stepped forward with Thalia and they broke it with a powerful gust of wind. He could feel his sister’s strength beside him and it felt so right and good he could burst.

“ _Enoch, you’re feeling sleepy, very sleepy,”_ said Piper and Enoch turned to her and said—it wasn’t a word, more like a sound, a bell being rung in the chest with a sound that did not change as it suffocated you.

“Piper!” Jason screamed as Percy met Enoch’s flaming sword with Riptide. Enoch staggered under the blow and looked bewildered as Percy swung again.

“What--How are you--” Percy whirled around to strike him again, driving him back once more. 

“I’m Percy Jackson!” he shouted. “And I'm about to clip your wings, you overgrown turkey!”

“What?” Enoch clearly had trouble believing a teenage demigod was fighting him on par, while Percy went at him with everything he had, Thalia trying to get in a good shot past Enoch's black wings.

Jason scrambled over to Piper, tossing off a bolt of lightning at Enoch alongside Thalia. Piper was gasping for breath and blood was coming from her ears and nose, but other than that she didn't seem to have any major injuries.

Enoch snarled (really, like a dog) and pressed Percy back with furious blows from his flaming sword. Annabeth circled around to try and make it up the fountain from the Ravana’s side. For a moment Jason wondered what she was doing, then it clicked

If stalling Enoch was good, then surely interrupting Ravana was better. And sure enough Enoch ignored her, occupied with Percy and Thalia, while Jason attended to Piper.

Or they thought Ravana was ignoring her too. When Jason looked up he saw the strangest thing, like Ravana’s face had been superimposed on itself nearly a dozen times, and the same with his arms.

One of the face’s eyes blazed, and Ravana’s gentle voice whispered through the noise and the heat straight into all their ears.

“I see you, Wisdom’s Daughter.” One of his twenty arms raised his sword that gleamed like the moon and Jason knew there was no dodging this blow.

“ANNABETH” Percy screamed as the white light shot toward her, so wide and powerful she couldn’t do anything but watch as it bore down on her.

Seemingly out of nowhere Nico shouldered her down and raised his dark blade, radiating shadows, to counter the light. The blow hit and Nico screamed, driving them both into the rough charred wood.

Enoch took the moment to knock Percy back with a backhand like teeing up for a golf swing, and then bore down on Thalia. Annabeth was holding a whimpering Nico and then Ravana raised his sword again. Piper groaned in Jason's arms.

“The sun now sets on the gods of Olympus,” Ravana intoned in his unnatural voice, and brought his blade down. A spectral arm raised its blade in turn and reached out to cut Apollo’s throat. 

The force of it jerked Apollo back, ichor spraying out as he staggered. His body slumped into the fountain where it began to sizzle, Apollo’s ichor mixing with the rest. Gradually he tumbled over the edge into the pool, floating on his back in the steaming golden ichor.

“YES!” cried out Enoch. “Now, Ravana, now!”

Ravana reached up with his blade and _cut off his own head_. Behind him the images of his face flickered and flared until they surrounded him like a halo. He knelt by the edge of the fountain and raised his severed head above the ichor.

“Behold, children! Now we control the power of fate! Let us hear this apostate prophecy—NO!” Enoch cried. As Ravana lowered his head into the ichor, appearing as if from nowhere, was Rachel with that strange god—Nanabozho—standing behind her. He looked unharmed despite the limbs and ichor they’d seen spattered around Gilgamesh, and he was smiling. When Ravana dipped his head in the ichor Rachel dunked her face in as well.

The world went quiet. Ravana’s eyes, all of them, were blank and unseeing. He lifted his head out of the ichor just as Rachel raised hers. Their eyes glowed white, and so did Apollo’s.

All three of them spoke in unison:

 

_“When fate is fouled by tainted blood_

_The ichor of Olympus will turn to mud_

_In Wisdom’s house there hides the key_

_To build the cage that sets them free_

_Two heroes are marked and called by fate_

_Both cursed by love and blessed by hate_

_Reforge the silver hand to light the way_

_Love the fatal flaw that saves the day_

_As a severed thread reweaves its past_

_So the first enemy becomes the last_

_From the ashes of defeat will rise the phoenix king_

_For victory’s sake, the hero must lose everything.”_

 

There was silence. Then Ravana began to tremble. He replaced his head on his body as Rachel swooned back into Nanabozho’s arms. When his neck re-attached his face twisted with rage.

“You will all die now,” said Ravana, and he raised his twenty hands to strike them down.

“If you think you have time,” Nanabozho said mildly, holding Rachel in his arms bridal style. Ravana paused, his arms raised in the air.

“Ravana, we must go to Olympus _now,_ if we want to get there before the Trimurti catch on,” Enoch said hurriedly.

“Very well,” said Ravana and one of his twenty spectral arms reached back and lifted Luke up. Enoch flew over the ichor pool on his shadow wings and touched Ravana’s shoulder as the God-King of Lanka extended his sword once more.

“And lo, I cast us off,” he said and cut Luke down. The two of them vanished. The ichor pool began to bubble, little plops that began to escalate.

“Luke!” Annabeth was hovering over him her eyes wet. “He killed him!”

“Only technically, it’s just his body,” said Nanabozho looking coolly at Luke. Jason helped Piper to her feet. “Not the thing to worry about now. Ravana and Enoch have gone to lay siege to Olympus with their demigod rabble, now that their corrupt prophecy has bound your parents within their thrones. With the Olympians trapped, they will be free to steal the power of most of your ruling pantheon, and then wage their war of conquest on Mount Meru. The world will be rent asunder, and humanity will drown in a lake of fire.”

Nanabozho was watching the now bubbling pool of ichor, and the burning lotus that was slowly turning a dark bloody red.

“Get to the part where you tell us what to do next,” snapped Thalia. She was trying to pull Annabeth away from crying beside Luke’s body. Percy was fishing Apollo’s body out of the ichor. Nico was shouldering himself up the wall and Jason went to give him a hand.

“I don’t need any help,” said Nico in that tight voice that meant he would never say even if he did. And he did. Jason didn’t want to think about how much Nico, Percy, and Annabeth were hurting right now, especially since they still had work to do. So he ignored Nico, and gently helped him to stand.

Nico didn’t thank him, and Jason didn’t expect him to, but he also didn’t shove Jason away. In Nico-speak that meant a lot.

“Well, first thing is we should get out of here before the Mist explodes, so everyone you’re gonna have to get on my back,” said Nanabozho, as Rachel groggily stepped down from his arms. “Don’t be afraid to hold on tight!”

His shape shimmered and glimmered and swiftly remolded itself into a hare--a hare the size of an SUV.

“All aboard the Deeper Well--Olympus Express,” said Nanabozho. Everyone quickly mounted Nanabozho. His fur was more than just something to hang onto; it was alive and helped them climb up his back. It also bound Apollo and Luke to his sides and sealed their wounds. “Hold on to your hats, this hare always wins the race.”

He dashed out,  his bounding gait tossing Jason and the others around like children’s toys, although they stayed firmly strapped down by his fur. They sped past Gilgamesh, who only laughed louder and tossed a taunt at Nanabozho’s back.

As they came up into the Breathing Room there was an explosion behind them, and the Deeper Well began to shimmer as the Mist built up within it. Nanabozho, barely breaking his stride, snatched up Kutkh’s body in his mouth, and darted out the entrance to Delphi.

Rachel guided Nanabozho through the door, steering him by his long ears. Behind them the Mist grew and grew, a massive cloud that began to nip at their heels just before Nanabozho reached the entrance. They flew out and Nanabozho landed nimbly on the still muddy ground.

It was nearly dawn, and the air was cool. Behind them the Omphalos began to shimmer as the Mist built up within it.

“Thalia!” The hunters were waiting for them. They looked exhausted, and beaten down, but they’d set up camp and clearly made preparations to fight and receive wounded.

Dead nephilim littered the landscape. Thalia briefed and debriefed the Hunters while they unloaded from Nanabozho. Apollo and Luke’s bodies were laid on the ground. Their wounds were bound but still visible.

“Bring the chariot over, you must reach Olympus with all haste,” said Nanabozho and then cast an eye to Omphalos. “And we need to get out of here before that explodes.”

“I’ll get the car,” said Jason. It was only a short flight away, and he’d driven it before.

“Uh, guys?” said Percy, staring at the sky. A black mass was moving towards them, and even from a distance the sounds of cawing could be heard.

“They wouldn’t,” breathed Nanabozho, hefting Kutkh’s body over one shoulder. “Damn. Kids, you’re on your own.”

“Going. Somewhere. Nanabozho?” said three female voices one word after another. Jason whirled around, bringing his sword up and ignoring the twinge in his arm. They were all pretty badly beaten up, except for Percy somehow, who bounded up to the new threat with indomitable energy.

“Morrigan,” said Nanabozho coldly. Three women were standing before them, each of them a variation on a theme: dark hair, cold glossy eyes, and a sneer.

“Release. Our. Brother,” said the women, each speaking only one word before the next took up their sentence. The cadence of it made Jason's teeth itch.

All around them ravens and crows took up perches.

“Bows,” said Thalia, and the hunters of Artemis notched their arrows.

“We need to get through the birds to reach the chariot,” said Annabeth in a low voice as Nanabozho and Morrigan traded a bit of repartee.

“You up for ruffling some feathers, bro?” asked Percy. Jason shrugged.

“Not a lot of other options, are there,” he said, when Piper stood up looking alarmed.

“Guys, I think we have a problem.” The Omphalos was glowing a sullen, rusty red, and had begun to quiver.

“You. Will. Die!” screamed Morrigan and attacked Nanabozho. Ten thousand ravens and crows descended on them.

And then the Omphalos exploded.


	29. Chapter 29

Nowhere - Everywhere

_Today is not the day the world ends_

_Not yet_

Leo 

It wasn’t that Leo regretted his promise, but he did feel kind of bad for how cavalierly he'd made it. 

Festus had been flying through the Mist for—well that was the thing, wasn’t it? Time had no meaning in the Mist; they might have been flying for weeks or for only a few days. Calypso had tried to keep track, but after a while even she couldn’t tell the passage of time. So they’d talked. A lot. Kissing too. Leo _loved_ the kissing, although the talking wasn’t so bad either. Calypso had a lot of great stories, even if most of them had happened thousands of years ago. But even that began to pall when it became apparent that leaving the Mist might not be as easy as Leo had thought.

So when the clouds of Mist around them began to heat up Leo immediately began celebrating.

“Calypso! Do you feel that?’ he asked excitedly.

“Yes, I do,” she said, her concern bringing Leo up short.

“Well, this is good, right? I mean it’s different,” he said.

“The Mist should not behave this way,” murmured Calypso more to herself than to Leo. He got it, when he was into his work he could focus so hard he drowned the world out (it was pretty much the only time he could focus at all).

Festus rumbled beneath them. His skin was growing warm, and while Leo might not mind it he didn’t know if Calypso would feel the same.

“Oh no,” she said and grabbed Leo to sit down. “Hold on, Leo!”

“What? Why?” he leaned over just in time to see the massive wave of light barrel up through the Mist, knocking them head over heels.

Leo screamed as they were buffeted around like a songbird in a tornado. He could hear the whine of Festus’s metal limbs being pulled apart by the forces pulling at them, and behind him Calypso was shrieking.

Suddenly, there was a light as bright as the sun and they were rising up and up and up—

The sky! Leo could see the sky! The sun was rising and everything. They were officially out of the Mist.

“WHOO!” he shouted as Festus flapped his wings to steady himself.

“Leo, look!” said Calypso, pointing down below.

There were his friends! And they were fighting—birds? Lots and lots of birds. They were all staring at him and Calypso though (as they should be). Leo would bet all kinds of money they looked super awesome.

“Festus, let’s fry up some chickens!” cheered Leo and the dragon roared.

Calypso leapt from Festus’s back as he and Leo were covered in fire. They made quick work of the crows with the help of the Hunters and Jason. Meanwhile Calypso was fighting against these sexy, Goth triplets with Percy and some guy Leo didn’t know.

Percy cut one of the women down, and golden ichor gushed from her side. Her sisters shrieked and seized her, all three exploding into a flock of crows that flew off in every direction.

After that the birds broke up Leo landed and hopped off Festus.

“LEO!” Jason and Piper practically tackled him.

“Reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated?” he said with an awkward laugh, and Piper sobbed.

“You big jerk!”

"Hey now, no name-calling," Leo told them, trying to pat them comfortingly, but his arms were pinned. "That's just not nice."

“Shut up,” said Jason, and Leo let them squeeze him well past the point of comfort.

“Calypso,” said Percy. “I’m so sorry I didn’t—“

“Hush, Percy Jackson,” she said, and gave him a tender hug that made Leo’s heart burn with jealousy, even though Annabeth was standing just over there (she didn’t look too happy either). “You have had little opportunity afforded to you for anything other than the gods and their whims. Trust me, I know what that’s like.”

“All right, this is all well and good and potentially quite alarming,” said the lean, pretty man who Leo didn’t know. “But you must leave for Olympus immediately.”

“What’s happening?” asked Leo. Whatever explanation he might have been offered was shut off by a car flying out of the sky and skidding in the air down toward them. Driving it was a terrified looking Nico and a cackling Rachel in the passenger seat.

“Hey guys, hop in,” she said when the car stopped.

“Oh, gods, Rachel, your eyes,” said Annabeth in horror. Her eyes were white like marble, almost polished with how they gleamed.

“You don’t get to dip your face in God without some consequences, apparently,” said Rachel lightly as she opened the door. “Someone give me a hand? Still kind of new to this whole blind thing. Jason, you need to drive these guys to Olympus.”

Percy quickly moved to Rachel’s side and helped her navigate.

“Actually, Leo can probably do a better job,” said Jason. Nico’s eyes went wide as if he'd just noticed Leo.

“You really were alive,” he said, and Leo preened.

“At least someone believed in me, have to admit didn’t think it’d be you,” said Leo. Jason turned a black look on Nico, like he’d betrayed everything Jason stood for.

“You _knew?_ And you didn’t tell me?” he demanded and Nico turned his head away, not able to meet Jason’s accusation.

“I didn’t want to raise your hopes if I was wrong,” said Nico. “You don’t want that kind of pain.”

“Guys, focus!” Rachel clapped her hands imperiously. “Nanny, or Calypso, can one of you stretch the chariot out some more?’

“This is Apollo’s chariot?” asked Calypso pointing at the car. Nanny lifted his (was he a man? Suddenly Leo wasn’t so sure) hand and snapped his fingers three times. The car, which had been a sweet stretch Bugatti, shifted into a classic Vanagon with a paint scheme that echoed the sun. Bright yellows, full reds and soft shades of orange to bind it all together.

Leo did not care for it. Maybe some flame decals would make it look better. Maybe, but probably not.

“All right, everybody in,” said Jason in his I’m-taking-charge voice. “Leo, get up front and get situated. I’ll be with you in a second.”

Leo was first in the car, which meant after he finished surveying the controls and discovered the Sun Chariot looked just like a regular car, he got to watch the rest find their seats.

Since Rachel said she was going with Thalia and her Hunters, who had their own method of transport, that left Jason, Piper, Calypso, Annabeth, Percy, and Nico to fit in the car. The Vanagon was arranged so that there were three seats in the back facing two seats that were back to back with the front seats. And something was up with people, because before everyone got in there was an awkward pause, until Annabeth just climbed into the front seat with Leo. For some reason that broke the spell, and the rest of them all climbed in. Jason was behind Leo and Piper behind Annabeth, with Percy sandwiched between Calypso and Nico in the way back.

Leo decided that discretion was the better part of valor (besides he’d pump Jason and Piper for all the details once whatever they dealt with whatever fresh hell was current) and gunned the engine.

“Festus, follow us to Olympus,” he called out the window. His dragon rumbled in reply. “All right guys, hang on to your seat-belts, and please keep all limbs inside the vehicle while it is in motion. Let’s ride!”

They rocketed into the sky.

 

* * *

 

The journey to Olympus took almost not time at all, which surprised Leo until Annabeth explained that the chariot could approach it from a “conceptual” direction, which made distance essentially meaningless. When she tried to explain further his head started to ache, not to mention his stomach, which had started complaining to him bitterly. Being suspended in raw magic for weeks without food or water wouldn’t kill you, but once you got out of the magic your body started to notice it had been running on arcane fumes and demanded more.

“I’ve got an energy bar here somewhere,” said Annabeth, because she was awesome like that. Leo had always respected her level-headedness, and when she pressed a malformed, but still sealed, protein bar into his hand he almost burst into tears.

Peanut butter flavoring had never tasted better.

“Oh no,” said Annabeth as Olympus came into view. “Look!”

There was a war being waged on the walls of Olympus. A host of minor gods, most of whom Leo didn’t recognize, were trying to stave off two other gods, both of them men and neither looking particularly happy. One of them had six shadowy wings ever-spread behind him, and from his hands white light burned gods and magical stone alike. The other had nearly had a dozen heads and twenty arms, though most of them were spectral, they proved every bit as dangerous were they real.

“Is—are they?” gasped Calypso.

“Who are those dudes?” asked Leo.

“Enoch and Ravana,” said Annabeth like those names meant anything to him, but Calypso looked terrified. "Looks like they're stalled until their cronies let them in."

“Annabeth,” Jason moved up to kneel between him and Annabeth. “What’s the best way for Leo to get us inside?”

“Just drive straight for the wall,” she said, prompting Leo and Jason to stare at her in horror. “The chariot will pass straight through, it’s a security feature.”

“Oh, cool,” said Leo and drove straight for the wall.

“NO NOT HERE,” shouted Annabeth and Leo furiously spun the wheel as Jason was thrown back into Percy’s lap. “We can’t give them an opening, drive around a little.”

Mr. Ten Heads (he looked gross and Leo would bet his name was Enoch) had noticed them, but was otherwise occupied. Or so Leo thought.

“You escaped,” he said as if he were right next to Leo whispering in his ear instead of a hundred yards off surrounding by shouting gods and explosions. “But you still failed.”

“How have the gods allowed this?” cried Calypso as Leo drove into the wall. He couldn’t help closing his eyes but like Annabeth said the chariot passed through without a problem.

Behind the walls Olympus gleamed, more beautiful than ever. And striding into the throne room was a group of menacing people outfitted for war.

“That the enemy?” asked Leo.

“Yes! Floor it!” shouted Jason. “We have to stop them from sitting on the thrones!”

At this distance? There was no way they’d make it in time to stop them. All the same, Leo gunned the chariot, but the group had already entered the throne room.

“No,” breathed Annabeth, and then there was a moment of stillness, the calm before a terrible storm.

Instead there came a little mournful whistle that rapidly grew in intensity. As it did the throne room filled with light, and Leo slammed on the breaks as they skidded in through the entrance.

Everybody rushed out of the car ready to meet the enemy. Except the enemy was already sprawled about and face down, groaning. And standing in the center of the throne room was a grinning Will Solace.

“It’s about time you guys got here,” he said and started whistling a sweet little tune. Almost immediately aches and pains Leo hadn’t even known he had faded away. Tension drained from his body and the melody left him feel stronger, more empowered.

Around him his friends were experiencing the same thing only they were taking much more pleasure form it since they had actual injuries. Will was way more powerful than Leo remembered him being, and Calypso was staring at him in horror.

“Is that—DAD?” Will moved forward so fast he became a blur, reappearing kneeling at his father’s side.

“I’m so sorry, Will,” said Piper gently, but Will had put his hands on Apollo’s body and now they glowed with a brilliant golden light. As they watched, Apollo’s features eased and his wounds healed until he was whole again.

“No,” said Calypso, shaking her head as she stared at Will. “This too? Is it not enough that I finally escape my prison after interminable millennia, but now I return to a world gone utterly mad!”

“Ergh,” said one of the—whoever the enemy was. He was a slight, dark skinned boy with gleaming gold eyes.

“Stay down,” said Nico leveling his sword at the boy. Even from where he was standing Leo could feel the cold of that dark blade. “Or I’ll cut you down.”

Good to know Nico was still terrifying.

“Heh.” The boy laughed once, a breathy sound totally devoid of amusement. “Right.  _Ablanathanalba_.”

The boy shattered like a mirror, and suddenly there were a dozen of him. They each touched one of the fallen renegade demigods, said the same bizarre word again, and vanished.

“That child has mastered the barbarous names,” gasped Calypso. “What _is_ this?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay babe,” said Leo and Calypso shot him a dirty look.

“Do not speak of things you know nothing about, Leo Valdez. Only the most powerful mortal sorcerers or magicians can use words of power like barbarous names, and he was just a child!”

Will stopped healing his father and sat back on his heels. “All right, dad, the rest is up to you. Where’s Luke?”

“Here,” said Annabeth kneeling by Luke’s body. Will moved over to heal him.

“So,” said Leo, hands on his hips. “Anyone wanna explain what the hell is going on?”


	30. Chapter 30

Mount Olympus – The Throne Room

_The things that unite us are stronger than those that divide us_

_For now_  

Annabeth

Somewhere behind Annabeth someone—it sounded like Jason—was getting everyone on the same page. But Annabeth only had eyes for the broken boy in front of her, and the healing light Will was pouring over him.

She felt more than saw Percy kneel down beside her. Without thinking she took his hand and squeezed. He squeezed back. Whatever else was happening between them, she still loved him, and knew he loved her. They had been friends first, and they would be friends again.

“Is he?” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question. Intense concentration furrowed Will’s brow while the warm, healing sunlight emanated from his hands, but Luke’s body didn’t have any visible injuries anymore. Was he dead? Had Luke come back into her life just to die again? Nanabozho had said something...

“I don’t know,” Will said shortly. “I can’t—it’s like there’s nothing there.”

“Not nothing, just very, very little.” Annabeth almost fell over as Hestia kneeled next to Will. The goddess radiated warmth and calm. “It is the smallest of sparks, and if you fan it too hard you will snuff it out, just as surely as it will die if you do not nurture it.”

The goddess offered one delicate hand to Annabeth, and she took it. Hestia laid her other hand over Will’s and the light coming form his hands changed. It wasn’t just sunlight any more; it was the warm light inside a house, the sunbeam streaming through a window with a cat napping in it.

“It is the same as detenebration, Will Solace, you must let your light shine within him, and not just on him. We will help you. Think of Luke, think all that he is, and has been, and we can kindle the spark into a flame.”

Annabeth closed her eyes and thought fiercely. She thought about Luke when she’d first met him, when she first realized she loved him, when she first realized he had betrayed her, betrayed them all, and then at the end when he rejected it all, and died for them, for her.

“That’s it. You’re doing well, all of you.” Hestia’s voice soothed Annabeth’s worries so she could focus more on Luke. His smile, his laugh, his scowl, his anger, his pain, his happiness…

Annabeth felt something leave her, something insubstantial that still made her body lurch. Luke’s body seized and then he gasped, his eyes wide open in terror.

“Not yet,” said Hestia and touched his forehead. Luke sagged back into sleep. “Very nicely done, Will.”

“Ah, thank you, Lady Hestia,” said Will, and he sounded exhausted.  Annabeth exhaled shakily. Luke was alive. What that meant she could save for later, for now they had to make plans.

“All right,” she said, and took a deep breath. Percy squeezed her hand one last time and let go to stand up. She stood on her own. “Okay.”

“What do we do now?” asked Percy, his eyes still lingering on Luke. “What—where are the gods?”

“The ichor of Olympus has turned to mud,” said Apollo in a raspy voice. Will moved to his father’s side and helped him stand. “Thanks, Will. You’re a good egg. Hestia—are they?”

“You are the only Olympian not currently bound within your throne by the corruption of the Mist,” said Hestia, and then added wryly, “Which means that despite the fact you are powerless, you are now the de facto Lord of Olympus, at least until we free the others.”

“How do we do that?” asked Jason. “Can’t we just destroy the thrones and break them out?”

“NO!” Annabeth almost shouted, and then cringed because she’d shouted over Hestia, and even if she looked like a sweetheart little girl she was still a goddess of great power.

“Annabeth is right,” said Hestia mildly. “Destroying the thrones would only cause greater devastation. The Axis Mundi must remain fixed, as of now it hangs by a single thread.” She looked meaningfully at Will.

“Here, Dad, I’ll give you your power back,” said Will. Apollo stepped back from him, hands up in protest.

“No way, the moment you do that I’m getting sucked into my throne. The fact that you’re a living god is the only thing keeping me from being bound up like the others.”

“Yes, and we must protect the rest of them as well,” said Hestia. “Ravana and Enoch left when their demigods failed to secure the thrones, but we must assume they will try again.”

There was a moment of heavy quiet.

“So… what’s that mean?” asked Percy, looking at Annabeth quizzically. And it was so familiar, so normal, that it almost didn’t hurt.

“As long as the gods are caged within their thrones, their power is vulnerable,” said Annabeth slowly. “And they cannot fulfill their functions. We need to free them, but we also have to do it in a way that preserves the Axis Mundi, and we don’t have the time to find answers before their absence makes trouble.”

“Build the cage that sets them free,” said Nico, not meeting Annabeth’s eyes. “We need to build the gods new thrones.”

“Which means we still need Daedalus’s laptop,” finished Piper with a significant look at Annabeth.

“Doubtful,” said Hestia with a little sniff. “We gods know the secrets of our own thrones well enough.”

“But either way, you need to safeguard their power,” said Apollo heavily. “More living gods. By the Kindly Ones, the Trimurti are _not_ going to like this.”

 

* * *

 

After that things happened quickly. Hestia and Apollo left almost immediately for Mount Meru to inform the Trimurti of all that had happened. Unfortunately, as soon as they left Olympus was rapidly filled with angry and frightened Greek and Roman gods demanding to know what had happened to the Olympians. Without Hestia or Apollo to calm them down, the demigods relied on Will to keep them in order. But even though Will was a living god, they didn’t accord him the respect they would have one of the Olympians.

Once Chiron finally arrived things began to quiet down. Though he was not a god, he commanded a certain amount of deference, if only because everyone knew that Chiron reported directly to the Olympians. Calypso had actually proved invaluable in wrangling the gods as well, if only as a distraction.

Messages were sent out to New Rome and Camp Jupiter; the last Annabeth had heard was that Reyna and Frank were on their way. She assumed Hazel would be with them, and it would be good to see all of them. There was so much they needed to do…

But first Annabeth had something she needed to take care of, that couldn’t wait any longer. Although she wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep, she knew the sooner this was done the better it would be for all of them. She’d come to this small room, overlooking the gardens set amongst the clouds surrounding Olympus, to fortify herself for the coming conversation.

“Hey.” Annabeth gave a little start, Percy had walked up on her without her noticing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I was just thinking I should find you. We need to talk.”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We do. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Percy,” she said, deciding this alcove was private enough for their conversation. “I—are you gay?”

Percy flinched and Annabeth immediately felt bad. “I’m sorry, that was a terrible question to start with, you don’t have to say anything. I just… we’re breaking up, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” said Percy hoarsely and then cleared his throat. “And… yeah. I think I am. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Percy,” Annabeth said and hugged him. He let loose a little ragged sob and Annabeth held him close. “You don’t have to apologize. This must have been so hard for you.”

“I didn’t know,” he said. “I really didn’t, you have to believe me, I didn’t mean to lead you on I swear.”

“You didn’t lead me on Percy,” Annabeth said firmly, her eyes burning with tears. “I didn’t fall in love with you because I wanted to have sex with you. And we both know you didn’t fall in love with me for that either.”

Percy laughed and cried at the same time, which sounded a bit like having the hiccups. Annabeth felt so sad and full of love it was a wonder her chest hadn’t burst with feeling. She pulled back to get a look at the boy she’d thought she would spend the rest of her life with. Percy’s brilliant green eyes were bloodshot and rubbed red.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“No,” he answered honestly. “I don’t—I don’t want this. Are you okay?”

“I’m not going to lie and tell you that I feel good about this, but it is what it is, right? It’s not bad, but we do have to accept it.”

“You never just accept things, though,” said Percy, and Annabeth’s heart broke even more because he knew her so well, he knew her better than almost anyone at this point.

“Sometimes… you just have to,” she said. Piper had taught her that. “The wisdom to accept the things you can’t change. This is where we are, but it’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah, but you’re the smart one, Wise Girl,” he sniffled. “I’m just a Seaweed Brain.”

Annabeth tilted Percy’s head down just enough to place a kiss on his forehead. “Your head may be full of kelp, Percy Jackson, but you’re not dumb. You’re strong, and you can do this. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re too good for me, anyways,” said Percy.

“No, no I’m not,” said Annabeth. “And I don’t regret anything, not a moment of it, understand?”

“Me neither.” They hugged again, and Annabeth sobbed once before she mastered herself. She could come apart later, when there was time.

“Okay,” she said pulling back, blinking through the tears to plaster on a brave smile for Percy. “Let’s go save the world again.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” But there was one last thing Annabeth had to say.

She took a heavy breath. “Just so we’re clear, are you and Nico?” Despite her best effort she couldn’t manage to finish the question.

“No!” Percy almost shouted. “I mean—we… I don’t know.”

Annabeth knew there was more to the story. “Did you kiss him?”

“He kissed me,” Percy admitted, his face flushed. “It was a brotherly kiss, or something. But then I kissed back, and it… wasn’t that.”

She couldn’t be angry with him for that, or at least she shouldn’t be. Percy hadn’t known, and neither had Nico. It was an accident and in the long run this was better to find out sooner rather than later. There was no one to blame. Annabeth still felt angry though. It almost made her angrier that she couldn’t stop feeling the anger. She pictured Piper, and held on to her advice. Except the anger wasn't washing over and through her, if anything it was pooling and growing deep.

Annabeth focused on the thought of finding Piper, and steeled herself with it.

“If you two are… don’t worry about me, okay?” If she couldn’t have Percy—couldn’t _be_ with Percy—then he deserved someone who loved him as much as she did.

“I don’t even know if--” Percy bit his lip. “We barely know each other in some ways.”

“You know what’s important,” said Annabeth, and she really needed to go. This was harder than she thought it would be. Annabeth had said her piece, now she needed some time and space. “I should go, we—there’s a lot to be done.”

They both knew that, and they also knew that wherever there was work to be done, they both ought to be there. But Percy let the little lie stand, and just hugged her again. Annabeth walked away from him, her back straight, and finally let the tears stream down her face.


	31. Chapter 31

Mount Olympus

_Love is the closet distance between two people_

Percy

Percy let loose a long, exhausting sigh of relief. That had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Every bone in his body cried out to him to run back to Annabeth, to apologize and beg her to come back. He wanted so badly…

He couldn’t do that to her. Not when he couldn’t give her what she wanted. Nausea was caressing his stomach, tension gripped his back and neck. He felt unreal and sick and sad and scared and he just wanted to see his mom.

A warm breeze blew over him, the scent of honeysuckle, grass, pine needles, and… cheese enchiladas?

“Grover!” Percy exclaimed and whirled around. “When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” said Grover with a wide smile. They exchanged fierce hugs with some manly back slaps. Grover pulled back and gave Percy a good look over. They had barely any time to catch up in the aftermath of the war, and Percy missed his first real friend.

“How you holding up, Percy?” Grover asked him gently.

“What, you don’t already know?” This close Percy could feel the empathy bond between them so easily there was no ignoring it.

“Oh no, I know,” said Grover with a little apologetic nod. “It’s what’s called an opener; you use them to start conversations. Also, I just dodged Annabeth on her way out of here.”

“Ha, ha,” Percy laughed sarcastically. Then he sighed. “I don’t know. Not holding up so good, I guess. Did she look—was she really upset?”

“No more than you, I think,” said Grover, his eyes crinkled with concern. “You two broke up?”

“Yeah, yeah we did.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Percy.” Grover squeezed his shoulder. “You guys were good together.”

“I think I'm gay.” Shock radiated down the bond between them and Percy flinched from it. He hadn’t really thought about it, the words just fell out. Suddenly Percy had a lot of empathy for Nico, and even more admiration for his bravery.

“Wait—what—really?” Grover stammered.

“Yeah.” Percy shrugged and didn’t meet Grover’s eyes. “So that’s why we broke up.”

“Well, I gotta say,” said Grover, “Of all the surprises I’ve had to today, that ranks as the only positive one.” A burst of warmth and affection came through the bond, making Percy sag with relief. “I’m glad you told me, Percy.”

“Thanks, Grover.” They stood in a companionable silence for a minute, Grover’s hand kneading Percy’s shoulder supportively, before Grover’s growing curiosity got the better of him.

“So, anything—or anyone—in particular bring this revelation on?” asked Grover and Percy sighed as his thoughts drifted to Nico.

“Yeah, Nico. Who I should probably go talk to.”

Grover’s eyebrows were up near the base of his horns. “Wait—you don’t mean Nico di Angelo, do you?”

“Do you know any other Nico’s?”

“Not any who would be giving you gay epiphanies,” Grover said frankly and Percy surprised himself with a bark of genuine laughter. “Huh. That… explains a lot actually.”

“Yeah, it kinda does, doesn’t it,” said Percy rubbing his neck, his mind drifting to darker places.

“Whoa, hey now, none of that,” said Grover. “You don’t have to do anything right now, okay?”

“No, I need to talk to Nico,” said Percy firmly. He’d hurt Nico enough over the years, he wouldn’t let this be another mark on that list. “Even if we don’t…”

But why wouldn’t they? Nico loved him, and had loved him for a long time. Loved Percy so much that he’d risked his life, his _soul_ , to keep Percy safe. Nico was brave and honorable and kind—at least once you dug under his shell. And it wasn’t like Nico was unattractive. He wasn’t a snot-nosed little kid anymore, he was a young man, like Percy. And Percy cared about him, a lot, more than most if he came right down to it.

But just jumping from one relationship to another felt wrong, not to mention exhausting, even though Annabeth had outright given them the go-ahead. Maybe it would feel better if he talked to Nico about things, got some idea of what he wanted too. It’s what Annabeth would tell him: to actually talk about his problems.

“I have to talk to him,” said Percy firmly, and then realized he had no idea where Nico was. “Um.”

“Well, the Romans are supposed to be arriving any minute now, so he’s probably in grand foyer,” said Grover. The thought of dealing with all those people right now instantly exhausted Percy. “Hey, listen, how about you go sit on a bench in the orchard down there and I’ll tell Nico you want to talk to him? How does that sound?”

“That would be awesome, thank you, Grover,” said Percy. He felt kind of bad, but at the same time it was an easy decision to rationalize. Being in the same room as Annabeth right now would be painful for both of them, and the fact of the matter was Annabeth was much more valuable in a planning session than he was.

 _“You’re not dumb.”_ That’s what Annabeth had said, but she was probably just being nice. It wasn’t like the others let _their_ ADD or dyslexia stop them from reading and studying. Most of them didn’t seem to have a problem with either, or had an easy time with it, while Percy had to deal with both in spades. Even now he couldn’t stand still without feeling like he was fit to burst.

Percy hopped down the stairs taking two at a time just for something to do. There were gardens all over Olympus, and each one had a theme (Percy knew this because Annabeth had told him). The theme for this one seemed to be purple. Purple flowers on bushes, roses, and even the trees winding their way through the trellises placed artfully about the flowers and hedges. Percy picked a bench in the shade of one of the trees, near a small fountain in clear sight of the stairs.

“Percy?” He looked up to see Nico approaching him cautiously, his face blank.

Percy stood and rubbed his suddenly sweat palms on his pants. “Hey. Nico. Can we talk?”

“Sure,” said Nico, his voice cracking almost an entire octave. Percy was too drained to poke fun at him, which was probably just as well. Percy gestured at the bench and Nico sat down at the end opposite him, butted up against the armrest.

“So,” said Percy as he sat next to Nico, not right next to him but close enough to clearly be sitting by him. “I broke up with Annabeth.”

Nico sat bolt upright and for a second he looked ecstatic, and then his expression crumpled, transformed into concern. “That must have been hard. Are you feeling all right?”

Percy let out a shaky breath. “No, not really. I just.”

He couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t line them up in his head to express how he felt. All of this confusion and fear and anger--underneath it all, so much anger that this was his life, all these things he couldn’t control.

Nico inched closer, putting an arm around Percy’s shoulders and he looked at Percy so tenderly, so lovingly that Percy couldn’t hold back a sob. The next he knew he was crying on Nico’s shoulder, into the warm, soft cotton of his black shirt.

“Oh, Percy.” Nico murmured his name over and over as Percy cried, gripping Nico like a drowning man would a life raft.

“Did it… hurt like this? For you?” asked Percy when his sobs were under control.

“Yes,” said Nico, and Percy gripped him even tighter.

“I’m so sorry, Nico,” he whispered and at some point Nico had almost shifted onto his lap, so that Nico was both holding Percy and being held by him. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“You didn’t know,” said Nico quietly. “And that’s okay. You try so hard, Percy, to be perfect and to save everyone. It’s okay to let someone else save you, it’s okay to not be perfect, not be the hero everyone depends on.”

Percy’s breathing slowed as he calmed down. He wiped his eyes, sniffling loudly. “I got snot on your shirt.”

“I can handle it,” said Nico, one of his hands rubbing comforting circles on Percy’s back, the other gently carding through Percy’s hair on the back of his head.

Percy needed to blow his nose, but he also didn’t want to get up. Nico was a comfortable weight in his lap, and his gentle fingers soothed Percy until his eyes stopped aching with tears.

“Sorry,” said Percy. “I didn’t meant to do that.”

“Percy.” Nico’s hands came up to cup Percy’s face so they could look into each other’s eyes. “Whatever happens, I’ll help you, okay? Everyone will. You won’t go through this alone.”

Like Nico had.

“Come on,” Nico said as he stood up, pulling Percy along with him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then maybe something to eat. Have you had anything other than ambrosia or nectar since we got back?”

“No,” said Percy, shaking his head. “Um, wait a second.”

Percy went over to the fountain and stuck his head in it to clean himself up. When he stood up he felt much better, but Nico’s shoulder was still very obviously damp and streaked with snot.

“I can clean that off for you,” he said and Nico just looked at him. Percy realized that asking Nico to clean his shirt meant he’d have to take it off, and that was a loaded request…

Nico was taking his shirt off. Percy felt a rush of heat at the sight of Nico’s skin, the contrast of pale skin under his clothes and his more olive colored arms and face. His nipples were small and dusky and Percy had to swallow suddenly, because when had Nico started growing from scrawny into lithe? He'd always taken notice of boys before, and he thought that was normal. Or at least he was able to ignore it.

Not so easy now.

“Here,” he said tossing Percy his shirt, which Percy barely caught. He’d never seen Annabeth with her shirt off, but he also hadn’t really wanted to, or rather it hadn’t been his priority.

Percy submerged the shirt and wiped it clean. He dried it off and tossed it back to Nico who slipped it on, giving Percy an open view of his lean stomach and the V of his hips. When Nico’s head popped up through his shirt he caught Percy staring and flushed, but then he smiled. Percy smiled tentatively back.

“So,” said Nico. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, yeah I am,” he said. “Thank you, Nico.”

“Of course, Percy,” Nico said and he sounded so genuine, so loving, that Percy’s chest ached. A bittersweet sort of pain, like there was a hollow space inside him, and it yearned to be filled. And he could fill it, Nico would pour himself into Percy until there was nothing left of him. Could Percy do that to him? Be in a relationship with a boy who loved him that much?

Did he have to choose right now?

“Percy?” asked Nico and some of his thoughts must have shown on Percy’s face.

“Yeah, I just.” Now it was time for Percy’s voice to crack. “Okay. I, uh, that is. Us.”

“What about us?” said Nico, taking a step closer. The hope in his voice was too much, Percy couldn't break that, now or later.

“Nico, I don’t know… I’m not—I might not be the best choice,” said Percy. “Will really likes you and—“

“I don’t care about that,” said Nico decisively. “He’s not you.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing!” Percy lowered his voice. “You don’t—you have this idea of me and I’m not… I’m not that good.”

Nico stared at him before he burst out laughing, which Percy found himself more than a little offended by.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just—you’re trying to protect me, but that damage is already long, _long_ done.” Nico looked at him, and his eyes shined with feeling. “I love you, but I also know you. I know exactly who you are, Percy Jackson, your virtues and your faults, and I love you all the same.”

“I just don’t know if I can give you what you want, or what you deserve,” Percy said weakly.

Nico took another step closer. “I want you, Percy, I don’t care about anything else. But… if you don’t want me…”

Did he want Nico? He’d certainly liked kissing Nico, and he knew he cared about Nico, deeply.

“Can we take it slow?” he asked and Nico’s eyes were so bright and his face came so alive it filled Percy with a slow, warm glow. “Annabeth and I—I mean that literally just happened.”

“Anything you want,” said Nico. “Is a kiss too fast? We can hug, or maybe just hold hands?”

Percy hadn’t seen Nico this bright, this alive since…

He extended a hand to Nico who clasped it eagerly. It was hard to say who moved next, all Percy knew was that he was embracing Nico again and Nico’s arms were wrapped around him.

“Are you crying?” asked Percy after a moment and Nico shook his head.

“No. Yes. Sorry, I’m just really happy.”

Percy soothed Nico’s hair with his hands, tangled and wavy hair, thick but not coarse. Nico’s body felt so different from Annabeth’s, lean and bony where she was firm and soft, his limbs skinnier and his grip almost desperate. But the biggest difference of all was the way Percy’s body responded to Nico’s. He felt that same intense pull of love, of caring for someone so much it hurts, but there was also something else, something like curling, liquid heat that simmered low in his stomach, bleeding out into his limbs. Something that made him want to tilt Nico back and see how kissing him would feel if he did it deliberately. He didn't have the energy for it right now, but later...

“I had dreams like this,” Nico confessed, his warm breath ghosting over the hollow Percy’s throat. Percy shivered at the feeling.

“Yeah?” asked Percy, leaning his head against Nico’s resting on his collar. “Wanna tell me about them?”

“Not really,” said Nico, his fingertips rubbing gentle circles on Percy’s back. “This is better.”

“You totally should, though,” said Percy with a sly grin that Nico couldn’t see. “I can make your dreams come true.”

“Gods damn, Jackson!” Leo called out from above them. “That was smooth as hell!”

Percy and Nico both squawked and jumped away from each other. Standing at the railing overhead were Leo and Jason. Jason slugged Leo in the arm and he yelped indignantly.

“Leo, I told you not to… Sorry about interrupting,” Jason switched gears midstream as Leo grumbled and rubbed his shoulder. “Hestia and Apollo are coming back, and we need you guys.”

“Can you, like, give us a minute?” asked Percy and Jason nodded.

“Yeah, you’ve got five minutes,” said Jason, his eyes bouncing between them anxiously. “Are you guys… okay?”

“We’re fine, but can you make sure _he_ doesn’t tell everyone,” Nico said with a sharp look at Leo.

“I’ll keep him in line,” said Jason.

“Leo can keep himself in line, thank you very much,” said Leo. “Also, maybe we shouldn’t talk about him like he’s not right here. It could be considered rude, and we wouldn’t want to hurt Leo’s feelings so soon after he got back.”

“I’m sorry for the dead arm,” said Jason as they walked away. Leo’s response was muffled, at least to Percy, but it sounded full of righteous outrage.

“I’m glad he’s not dead, but I don’t really like that guy,” said Nico sourly. Percy chuckled. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re cute, is all.” Nico practically turned pink, just like he had back at Delphi, and something inside of Percy flipped like a switch. The tension was back, that taught feeling, the one he’d gotten around Nerites, the precursor to the heat that he’d felt when he’d kissed Nico.

Nico was staring at Percy’s lips.

Maybe one kiss wouldn’t hurt…


	32. Chapter 32

Mount Olympus – The Purple Garden

_To a hungry soul even bitter things taste sweet_

Nico

Nico wished there was some way he could bottle this moment and send it back in time to his younger self. Every painful night dreaming of Percy, every sharp feeling of longing, every bitter bout of self-loathing, all of it would fade to nothing if he knew that at the end was… this.

Standing in the gardens of Mount Olympus and kissing the boy of his dreams.

And this kiss was so much better than their first, frantic kiss in the car. It was slower for one thing, gentler too, and this time Percy was really present with him, wanting to be with him. Nico wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, so he rested them on Percy’s waist, but Percy had no such problem. With one of his hands he cupped Nico’s face and tangled his fingers in Nico’s hair, and the other he slid down Nico’s side to rest just above his hip.

Nico would have felt self-conscious if he could manage to string a thought together. But it was all he could do to catch his breath, even when Percy pulled back  from the kiss and stared at him. Percy’s normally bright green eyes were glazed over, and he was breathing hard too. Except he wasn’t saying anything, just staring at Nico, and Nico’s heart plummeted. What if he wasn’t good at kissing? What if the first time had just been a fluke? Percy had asked to take it slow, what if this was too fast?

What if he’d just ruined everything?

“Was it okay?” he asked, hating how nervous he sounded, how desperate. Percy blinked and his eyes lost a bit of their dazed look.

Percy stared incredulously at Nico. “Nico, I think that was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

Nico literally felt a trill of pleasure shoot right down his spine and straight to his—oh. He shifted uneasily, and stepped back a bit so Percy couldn’t feel how hard he was.

“Was it… not okay for you?” asked Percy.

“No! It was amazing!” Nico nearly shouted, canting his hips back. He cursed in his head when Percy’s eyes flickered downward. Nico’s erection was visibly outlined in his jeans, poking up to the side like a comically assembled tent.

Nico had never been more embarrassed in his life. He couldn’t even look at Percy.

“Dude,” Percy said, and pulled Nico’s hips against his. Nico inhaled sharply and gawked up at Percy, because _Percy was hard too_.

Percy’s hands shifted back from Nico’s hips to his butt and squeezed. Nico groaned and curled his fingers into Percy’s shirt and pulled himself forward, grinding their hips together as they kissed. They pulled apart long enough to gasp for breath and move back in again. Nico felt lightheaded, like his feet weren’t even on the ground anymore, like reality didn’t extend past Percy kissing him.

“We should,” Percy gasped between kisses. “Probably stop.”

“Yeah,” Nico agreed mindlessly. “Totally.” He kept kissing Percy, his fingers working down Percy’s shirt to his hem. “Sounds good.” He slid his fingers under Percy’s shirt and touched his stomach, smooth, warm skin that felt even softer than he’d imagined.

He’d always thought his love for Percy might be the death of him, he’d just never imagined that death would taste so sweet. 

Nico had always thought of Percy holding him, telling him that everything would be okay, that he loved him, and cared for him. He’d never dreamed that it could be the other way around, that he could feel such a warm tenderness in his chest, heavy like lead, but also delicate as paper, while he comforted Percy. He’d never known how pale a reflection his fantasies would be compared to the real thing. How it felt to touch and be touched, to taste and listen and smell Percy, to stamp out the last of those old feelings of longing and wanting but never having.

It felt like paradise.

Percy was ending the kiss, pulling back and looking deliciously rumpled. Nico knew Percy was right, they really did need to get going. It didn’t make it any easier to stop. 

“Whoa,” Percy exhaled. Nico was relieved that Percy seemed to be as affected as he was. “That was...”

“Good?” Nico finished hopefully.

“Yeah.” Percy smiled at him, a lopsided, dopey grin that made Nico feel like his heart would burst.

Nico turned his back to re-situate himself and straighten his clothes. When he finished he turned back to Percy, who had just finished splashing some water from the fountain on his face.

“Um, should I—should we?” Nico was having trouble talking, like his tongue was now too large for his mouth. His lips still tingled from the kiss, and his heart hadn’t entirely slowed down.

“Yeah,” said Percy, who was apparently feeling equally eloquent. They walked side by side toward the throne room. On occasion their knuckles would brush, and their fingers slide together, before falling back to their sides.

 

* * *

 

They had agreed to try and keep their budding relationship “low-key” as Percy put it. Percy had told him that Annabeth had all but given them her blessing, but he didn’t want to make it hard for her. Nico didn’t mind, he didn’t want to hurt Annabeth either, and he wasn't exactly chomping at the bit for the rest of camp to find out. So when Percy moved away from him and their hands stopped touching, it only hurt a little.

It turned out, however, that they needn’t have worried, because everyone was too busy shouting to notice latecomers. Nico counted at least a dozen lesser gods scattered amongst the satyrs, fauns, and assorted demigods from both camps.

“Nico! Percy!” Nico turned just in time to see Percy get an armful of Hazel at high speed. He laughed as she nearly bowled him over, spinning her around once before setting her back on her feet.

Nico loved both of them so much.

Hazel had just whispered something in Percy’s ear, and now they were hugging in earnest. Did she know already? He’d meant to tell her about things earlier, when the Romans arrived, but before he could ask her somewhere private Grover had pulled him away, saying Percy needed to talk with him.

“Hey.” Jason was suddenly at his shoulder. “You guys cool?”

“Yeah, we’re cool,” said Nico, which apparently Jason took as permission to sling an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, man, I really am,” he said and Nico grumbled, unwilling to look at Jason because there was no way his face wasn’t cherry red.

“Thanks,” he said and shrugged Jason’s arm off, only to have it replaced by Hazel hugging him, dragging Percy along with her.

“I'm so happy for you,” she said into Nico’s ear. 

“Thanks, Hazel,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “Did Leo tell you?”

“Annabeth told us,” said Frank from just behind him. Nico eyed Percy anxiously, and the twisted look on his face. Nico followed his eyes and saw Annabeth standing  in the center of the throne room with Chiron and Reyna, plotting to keep things under control. She looked totally focused on the task before her, without a sign that she’d just broken up with her long term boyfriend.

“She did?” asked Percy in a small voice.

Nico felt a pang of panic. “Did she tell everyone?”

“No, not at all,” said Hazel quickly. “Just, you know, us. The seven, and I think Reyna.”

That was okay, then. A bit presumptuous, but also the logical choice, and if that wasn’t Annabeth in a nutshell…

“And Leo won’t tell anyone,” said Jason firmly. “But people are going to find out.”

“We’re not—I mean not… yet,” Percy stumbled over his words. Nico might have taken offense, but now Percy _was holding his hand_ , so Nico’s ability to process outside information was decaying at an alarming rate.

“I agree, you guys should go on a date first,”  said Jason, smoothing over the awkwardness. He really was a great friend, Nico needed to do something nice for him, let Jason know how much Nico appreciated him.

Then his mind caught up with Jason’s suggestion. A date? A date with Percy? Nico didn’t know the first thing about dates! Percy looked relieved now though, so clearly he was fine with it. But why wouldn’t he be? Percy had experience with dates. Percy knew how a relationship worked, but Nico had no idea. 

“Yeah, that’d be good,” said Nico, and his voice broke again, but Percy was looking at him fondly, if a bit sheepishly, and still holding his hand. There was really nothing that could ruin this moment.

Thunder crackled in the sky, making everyone jump.

“HA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAIL OLYMPUS!” A booming voice seemed to come form everywhere at once. “ARE YOU READY: FOR! THE! THUNDER!!!”

Smoke spilled out onto the throne room floor, as flashing lights centered on a figure who had suddenly appeared in the entry way. Nico put his hand on his sword, along just about every other demigod in the throne room. The gods, however, didn’t look alarmed, so much as annoyed, or appalled.

“I CAAAAAAN’T HEAR YOUUUUUU!” Thunder boomed overhead as the figure produced a guitar. But before he could begin wailing out power chords, a warm gust of air scattered the smoke obscuring the entrance.

Standing in the entrance was an older man with the body of a warrior gone to seed. He was shirtless, with his gut ballooning over his waistband, and his body practically dripping with gold and jewels. In his hands he held a guitar that looked like a lightning bolt. But there were other figures behind him, moving out of the smoke.

“That’s because they’re not cheering, you overgrown windbag,” spoke one of the others who moved up next to the aging rock star. This man was older too, but was in far better shape than his companion. He also wore less jewelry, but on his head sat a mighty crown that flickered with fire.

“THE THUNDER CANNOT HEAR YOU EITHER, PUNY FIRE GOD—ow, ow, ow, okay! I’m moving, don’t push me, Varuna.”

The one pushing him, Varuna, was older than his two companions, but no less powerfully built. Unlike his companions who were of a dark complexion, his skin was blue.

“You're a disgrace to the pantheon, Indra. My apologies, Lady Hestia,” said Varuna with a respectful nod. Just behind the three stood Hestia alongside a subdued looking Apollo.

“Uh, who are these guys?” Percy whispered to Nico. Nico shrugged, he assumed they were gods, but he didn’t recognize their names.

“WHY, I’LL TELL YOU WHO WE ARE!” Indra slammed some power chords on his guitar and pointed right at Percy. “WE ARE----THE NEW KINGS OF OLYMPUS!”

Immediately all hell broke loose, gods shouting everywhere, with demigods covering their ears at the noise.

That is until a pillar of fire descended from the sky and slammed into the center of the throne room. Everyone grew quiet as the pillar of fire collapsed into a burning hearth, at the center of which stood Hestia, sparks cascading off her like tiny falling stars.

“If I could have everyone’s attention please,” she said in the kind of mild voice that made it very clear this was in no way, shape, or form a request. Hestia was not known for being combative or taking direction action, but she was still a goddess born of Kronos and Rhea. She was the last Olympian once again, and everybody in the room was aware of that fact. “Thank you, Lord Agni, Lord Varuna.”

The god with the flame crown, Agni, inclined his head respectfully, while his blue skinned companion, Varuna, wrestled Indra’s guitar away from him.

“The Trimurti have ordained that until we restore the Olympians to their roles, Lord Indra, Lord Agni, and Lord Varuna will anchor the Axis Mundi. Chiron, if you could please confer with the candidates; Apollo and I shall speak with anyone who has concerns. My lords, please make yourselves at home.”

 “Don’t mind if I do. Hey, Airavata, I’m feeling the thirst. Soma me, baby!” An enormous white elephant with three trunks and four tusks appeared from the clouds behind the three gods. On his back were piles of luggage, and his face was a look of glum resignation.

“As you please, Lord Indra,” said Airavata. One of his trunks reached back up amongst the bags to pull out a frosted, dark bottle.

“If everyone could just come with me,” called Chiron as Hestia went to address her fellow gods. Nico looked at Percy (who was _still_ holding his hand!!!) and Percy shrugged, tugging Nico along as they all walked out of the throne room.


	33. Chapter 33

Olympus

_They will build you up just to tear you down again_

Percy 

Sitting still was not one of Percy’s strong points. Neither were long, semi-formal debates. And so far all they’d done was sit and debate.

All of the head counselors from Camp Half Blood and Centurions who made the journey to Olympus were arrayed around a large conference table. Standing at its head was Chiron, having discarded his Mist disguise. At the other end of the table sat Reyna, flanked by Frank and Michael Kahale (Percy hadn’t known who he was until Nico told him). The problem was: who got to sit on their parent’s throne and become a living god. Mostly this was about making sure the pantheon had a relatively even Greek-Roman split.

What made the situation somewhat less complicated was that Hera and Artemis had no demigod children to sit for them. Also, Chiron had made it very clear that no one was to sit for Zeus, who would probably kill whoever sat on his throne. Given Zeus’s temper and track record, Thalia and Jason had readily agreed. Which just happened to leave an even number of gods.

“Look, if no one is going to sit for Zeus, and since Percy is the only son of Poseidon, then Hazel has to sit for Hades—sorry, Pluto,” Annabeth amended. “So we might as well do those now.”

“That’s fair,” said Reyna. She was treating Annabeth with a great deal of respect, which made Percy a bit nervous. When Reyna had spotted him basically holding hands with Nico she’d given him a very intense look. Nico had told him and Jason a bit about travelling with Reyna, and how close they’d grown. Percy had a sneaking suspicion that the moment Reyna got him alone he was going to get grilled. If he was lucky, because Reyna wasn’t the type to make threats, empty or otherwise.

He was probably good though, even if he and Nico weren’t holding hands anymore, he was sitting practically flush against Nico’s side. Every now and again Percy would tap Nico’s boot with his sneaker and treat himself to a bit of Nico squirming happily.

It was a bit of a heady feeling to be able to make someone so content so easily. It made him a little sad, too, that it took so little. But he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t comforting. He kept looking at Annabeth, and she never once met his eyes. Percy wasn’t sure what to make of that, since she’d also apparently told their friends about him and Nico. Actually, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that either, but it wasn’t like they weren’t gonna tell people. They just weren’t… official. Yet.

Also, he was _really_ hungry, not to mention kind of sleepy.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Nico quietly to Hazel.

“You know I do,” she said. “You heard Chiron, as long as we don’t draw too hard on our powers we’ll be fine.”

Nico didn’t look entirely convinced. Percy liked seeing this side of Nico, the way he behaved with Hazel. He was softer around her, and protective.

“Yeah, in the mean time do you think we can break for lunch, or dinner or whatever time it is?” asked Leo. “Some of us are running on only magic fumes and protein bars.”

Percy liked Leo, they had a similar sense of humor, and he seemed like a good guy. Plus, he managed to get Calypso off her island. Percy still felt bad about that, but Calypso had made it very clear she didn’t blame Percy. She did blame the gods, though. After she’d calmed down from the initial shock of the Olympians being bound to their thrones, she’d started laughing.

It _was_ kind of funny. If you could ignore the other stuff.

The other stuff being that the Trimurti were totally willing to let Olympus make as many living gods as they wanted, so long as the Olympians were restored no later than the day before the winter solstice. If they didn’t make it by then? The Trimurti would replace Olympus with another pantheon, and Olympus would be helpless to resist. That was the reason why the three kings had come, to anchor their thrones on this end of the Axis in the event the rest of the thrones had to be purged.

Yet another end of the world deadline. Percy was starting to think that the world was always on the verge of destruction, and he had a moment of empathy for that guy who had to roll the rock up the hill every day. What was his name?

“Nico, who was that guy we met in the underworld who had to roll the rock up the hill everyday?”

“Sisyphus,” he said, cocking an eyebrow at Percy. “Why?

“Well, this is like our third end of the world prophecy, right?” Nico snorted in amusement.

“—order some pizzas, or something,” Annabeth was saying. “Hazel, do you mind if we settle you first? Will’s already out there assisting Indra, Agni, and Varuna, so we should be able to squeeze you in right now.”

Percy hooked his foot around Nico’s ankle at the mention of Will. Nothing of Nico’s feelings showed on his face, but the pressure he was putting on Percy’s leg told a different story. Percy couldn’t pretend he really cared about Will’s feelings, though. Will had been a jerk to Percy, and he didn’t like how presumptuous Will had been with Nico even before that.

Clarisse was staring at him, her eyes flickering back and forth between him, Nico, and Annabeth. So Percy did what any mature young man would do: he made a face at her. And then Clarisse made one back, which, of course, meant war. Next to him, Nico visibly struggled to keep his amusement from bursting out. Percy winked at him, which was apparently the move to make, because Clarisse jumped up and shouted, “WHAT?!”

“Yes, Miss La Rue?” asked Chiron in that voice he got when he wasn’t angry, just very disappointed. Clarisse flushed an ugly red and sunk back down into her chair, apologizing gruffly. When the room’s attention had shifted off her she shot Percy a glower. He was going to pull another face at her, but Nico interrupted him.

“Chiron’s watching you,” whispered Nico from the side of his mouth, rubbing his leg against Percy’s under the table, playing tug of war with their feet. Percy covered his actions with a yawn that quickly went from fake to real.

Days on the run, inconsistent meals, and the fact he hadn’t slept in a bed in what felt like forever were all catching up to him. As soon as this was over he was pigging out on some food and then sleep for a day.

“All right, if we’re all agreed,” said Annabeth with a look at Reyna for confirmation. “Hazel, if you’d please come with Reyna and me to the throne room.”

Hazel squeezed Nico’s arm and whispered something in his ear before walking out. He watched her go sadly.

“You can go with her,” Percy said quietly, but Nico was already shaking his head.

“So, how about those pizzas?” Leo piped up. There was a rumble of assent from the room.

“I shall see about getting some food for everyone,” said Chiron. “If the desire for pizza is unanimous?”

As the room erupted into debate once more, someone gently touched Percy’s shoulder. It was Annabeth.

“Are you coming?” she asked.

“Uh, I thought Hazel was going first?” _I thought you didn’t want to talk to me._

“She is, but there’s no sense in not having you on deck afterwards,” she said briskly. “Especially since she’ll be the anchor for your alignment. There’s a waiting room just off the throne room.”

“Okay, then,” said Percy, but Annabeth had already turned around to walk out the room with Hazel, Reyna, and Frank. He untangled his leg from Nico’s and stood up. He’d already taken a couple steps toward the door when he noticed Nico wasn’t with him. He looked back and caught Nico’s eye.

“You coming?” he asked. Nico didn’t quite shoot up out of his seat, but he didn’t move very casually either.

“Yeah sure,” he said when he caught up to Percy, trying to play it off. Percy reached over to ruffle his hair. Nico batted his hand away, but not as hard as he might have a few weeks ago. Also, he was smiling, clearly pleased with Percy’s attention.

Percy could get used to this.

 

* * *

 

 The waiting room looked like an actual waiting room. One that led into a very exclusive and extremely discreet plastic surgeon’s. It even had magazines, most of them modern and mortal, but a few written in ancient Greek.

“Aphrodite has a magazine?” Percy pulled out a thick, glossy magazine with Aphrodite posed on the cover, a large letter A in a circle in the top left corner. There were several magazines, and Aphrodite was on the cover of each one. At least she looked different on each of them. Literally, a different person on each cover, but unmistakably Aphrodite all the same. “Of course she does.”

“What’s in it?” asked Nico.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” said Percy putting it back on the rack. He was feeling restless. He practically threw himself into a chair. Nico sat in the one next to him, watching him worriedly and periodically glancing at the wall even more worriedly.

“You should go,” said Percy and Nico jumped in his seat, like he’d forgotten Percy was there.

“No, I don’t want to be a… distraction.”

 Percy shrugged, but left it at that. He drummed on his arm rests until he had to start bouncing his knee. He yawned wide enough he felt his jaw click.

“What are you—ahem—doing after this?” asked Nico, looking at a point slightly past Percy.

“Well, I was figuring I’d go see my mom,” Percy said. “I barely got to talk her after the war, but if we’re all living gods we’ll be spending our time on Olympus, right? And my home is just like a few stops away, so I’m hoping I get to spend some time with her.”

“Stops?”

“Subway stops.” Percy paused. “Have you ever, like, just hung out in New York? Like for fun?”

Nico hunched his shoulders defensively. “I’ve been around.”

“Maybe that’s something we could do, then,” said Percy around another yawn. “And not fake touristy stuff—well maybe some of that. We can mix it up.” He looked speculatively at Nico.

“You mean, like, on a date?” Now Nico was warming up to the idea.

“Well, yeah,” said Percy. “Um—what were you thinking?”

Nico shrugged. “I don’t know. Going back to camp I guess.”

Percy thought about Nico, alone in his dark cabin, most of his friends and his only family on Olympus. Percy decided he hated that thought.

“Well, at least Jason will be there,” said Percy. “But we should talk to Chiron about you spending some time in the city.”

“I’d like that,” said Nico, with that slow, heartbreakingly shy smile of his.

Someone cleared their throat, making both Nico and Percy jump in surprise. Reyna was standing in the entrance, leaning against the doorjamb, her face inscrutable.

“They’re ready for you in the throne room,” she said and Percy stood up.

“All right then, let’s do this.” Percy clapped his hands together. It was kind of funny, he’d turned down godhood once before, and now he was going to get it anyway. Well, kind of, he wouldn’t be immortal, something Chiron had stressed over and over again. Apparently there were going to be all kinds of rules about what they could and couldn’t do with their parents’ power.

He walked with Nico and Reyna into the throne room. All of the thrones except Apollo’s and Hades’s were blank, white marble monoliths. Standing next to Poseidon’s throne were Annabeth and Hestia, deep in conversation. On the throne sat a basket with a single golden apple resting within it.

Nico made a beeline for Hazel, and Percy meant to follow, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder like an iron vice.

“Uh, did you have something you wanted to talk about, Reyna?” he asked as she turned him around. “Or are you just going to threaten me about treating Nico right?”

Reyna looked him in the eye. “You know I don’t make threats, Jackson. And Nico doesn’t need my protection, least of all from you.” The knowing look she gave him told Percy that she understood exactly how much he owed Nico. “I just wanted to let you know that I support you. If you ever need anything, let me know.”

“I’ll do that,” said Percy, feeling a bit touched.

“Come on, Seaweed Brain, let’s get this show on the road.” For so many years when Annabeth called he came running, and for a moment nothing seemed different.

“This is the apple you’re going to eat,” Annabeth told him when he reached the throne. “No, not yet, put it back. Okay, so I know you’ve sat on Poseidon’s throne before, but this time will be very different. Unlike with Apollo, the gods are actually bound inside their thrones right now, their divine essence is locked up and they cannot manifest vessels because of the corrupted prophecy. So when you sit down you should be able to feel Poseidon, but he’ll be almost inert, more subconscious than conscious. The power will flow into you, and then you eat the apple, so it doesn’t burn you up from the inside out, or poison your body by turning your blood to ichor.”

“Which happens anyway if we use our powers too much, yeah, I got it.” He hadn’t meant that to come out as sharp as it did, but Annabeth was unfazed.

“Good, then hold on a moment. Hazel?” Hazel finished whatever she was saying to Nico, kissed him on the cheek and then took her seat. Her version of her father’s throne was a chair with a high back that flared towards the top, well cushioned, and practically dripping precious stones from its gold frame. It looked like she’d tried for something less imposing and Hades’s subconscious—or rather Pluto’s—hadn’t gone for it.

Maybe if he kept his dad’s throne a sport fishing chair he could swing for some massage rollers in it.

“We’re good to go. Percy you can take a seat whenever your ready,” Annabeth told him. Nico was watching him worriedly from his place beside Hazel, so Percy flashed him a cheesy grin and a thumbs up.

Flustering Nico was definitely going to be his new favorite hobby.

“Whenever you’re ready, Casanova,” said Annabeth dryly and Percy flinched. Flirting with his new-maybe-kind-of-possibly boyfriend in front of his ex-girlfriend probably wasn’t very nice. Not that Annabeth seemed to mind, she was being all business.

He was pretty sure that he wasn’t allowed to feel hurt that Annabeth was dealing with their breakup so well. If he hadn’t been there for all the crying you’d never know they’d just broken off what they thought was true love.

He still loved her.

“All right,” Percy clapped his hands. “Let’s do this.”

He sat down.

Nothing happened. Annabeth was holding the apple, growing more concerned by the moment. Hazel was peering over at him from her throne, Nico watching worriedly beside. Reyna had even shifted out of her casual stance into one with firmer footing.

Percy wiggled in his seat and looked at Annabeth. “So… isn’t something supposed to happen, or do I just eat the apple now?”

“I don’t—Lady Hestia?” Hestia’s frown, the adult expression at odds with her childish face, put Percy on edge.

“Can you feel Poseidon’s power?” she asked. Percy closed his eyes and focused.

“Well, kind of. Last time it was like the ocean almost crushed me, but now it’s just… kind of there?”

“Reach for it,” she said and Percy shrugged. He closed his eyes again to concentrate better and tried to reach for his father’s power. It receded before his grasp, and so Percy reached harder, pulling from that place where his own power came from. He tried to bridge them, and then he felt his father’s presence in the power, slow and sluggish, on a different scale than a human mind. Thoughts that could last for centuries loomed over him like an unending tidal wave.

Percy tried to reach for his father, for the power, straining so hard he was clenching his fists, curling forward with the effort. He was almost there—almost there—

The power surged, and slammed into Percy, the force actually propelling him off his father’s throne into the air. He hit the ground hard, but he’d learned how to roll into a landing a long time ago. Still hurt though.

“Percy!”

“Annabeth, didja get the—the number.” His head was too fuzzy to make it come out right.

“Here, Percy,” said Annabeth, cool fingers coaxing his mouth open so nectar could be dribbled into it. The more he drank the better he felt, and in no time at all he was sitting upright, blinking blearily. He was surrounded by a ring of his worried friends. He turned to Annabeth and realized he was holding her hand at the same time she did.

“So, what just happened?” he asked as he tried to stand up. He flailed but Reyna caught him and easily hauled him to his feet. He looked around and saw Nico standing awkwardly a few feet away. Percy looked at him quizzically.

“I have no idea,” said Annabeth, and he knew how much that frustrated her. “Lady Hestia?”

“I am afraid this means that Poseidon has… rejected Percy.”

Silence settled on the throne room.

“What?” asked Percy weakly. Annabeth was rubbing comforting circles on his back, but all he could focus on were Hestia’s words, and the impassive look on her face.

“Poseidon will not grant you his power,” she said.

“What? Why? Did I do it wrong?” Had he disappointed his dad somehow?

“You did nothing wrong,” said Hestia, her adult frown at odds with her childish face. “My brother is not a jealous god, and you have not dishonored him. This is… curious.”

“Maybe he didn’t know it was me?” asked Percy desperately. “I can try it again—let’s do this.”

“No,” said Hestia, and the word stopped him like a bullet. “Poseidon has made his wishes clear. If you try again he may destroy you.”

“But someone has to sit on the throne, or it’s not an even split with the Romans,” said Annabeth, stepping away from Percy to put on her thinking face. He felt empty.

“And that’s a deal-breaker,” said Reyna bluntly. “Tensions are still high even with the treaty, we don’t need to inflame them.”

His dad didn’t want him anymore?

“Unfortunately, without a direct heir to Poseidon’s bloodline we have no choice,” said Hestia. “Even if we could find a legacy candidate, they would in all likelihood not have the strength needed to be a living god. Only a true demigod can bear that weight.”

“What if they were a legacy of Poseidon, but the child of another god?” asked Annabeth who was now scribbling something on her clipboard.

Percy barely heard the conversation going on around him. He was stunned, staring into nothing.

“Percy?” He turned to look at Nico, who was watching him carefully. He looked like he wanted to touch Percy, but was waiting for some signal.

“I think I want to go home,” Percy whispered.

“Okay,” said Nico, stepping closer. “I don’t—do you want me to come with you?”

Percy was tired. He just wanted to see his mom, and he was so tired. He felt like he was going to cry again. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes to try and stop it.

“We’ll do that then” Annabeth’s voice was close again. “Nico, this is Percy’s address, and directions to get there. Get him home safe, okay?” Annabeth always knew what to do. She touched his shoulder as she passed. He felt like he didn’t have any tears left to cry, but the wetness on his cheeks told him that wasn’t the case.

“Thanks. Come on, Percy.” He let Nico lead him out of the room, where they bumped into Jason and Piper. Percy tried to wipe away his tears, but knew he still looked like he’d been crying.

“I’m taking Percy home, can one of you,” Nico was talking to them about getting him home, about calling ahead, about the numbers Annabeth had jotted down on a piece of paper. All Percy had to do was hold it together a little while longer.

“I’ll come with you.” Jason moved to Percy’s side, bracketing him between Jason and Nico. Like they were shields.

He managed to make it to the elevator without crying too much. Still more than he would have liked, but once he was in the elevator it was just Nico and Jason. Outside it was night time, as opposed to the bright, never-ending noonday on Olympus. They walked through the empty lobby of the empire state building. Blood was still on the floor, with chalk outlines where all the bodies had lain.

He made it outside and into the large black car driven by Nico’s zombie chauffer. He felt like he was in someone else’s dream, and not even the bracing cold could wake him up.

“Scoot over,” said Jason as he slid into the car next to Percy. Nico came around the other side. They both sat beside him, solid, grounding presences, as Jules Albert drove through the lightly falling snow.

Outside the city was slowing down, people making their way home, bundled up in great big winter coats. Lights all over the high rises and skyscrapers were going dark. People were going home.

Percy was going home. It had been so long... 

At some point they stopped, and then like magic Percy was standing in front of a familiar door. It opened and light spilled out, framing his mother like she was an angel.

“Oh, Percy,” said Sally, and he collapsed into her arms too tired to cry, just little sobs wracking his chest. “My baby boy. Come inside, both of you, it’s too cold to be out tonight in just your t-shirts.”

He was finally home.


	34. Chapter 34

Manhattan – Percy’s Home 

_It is a human thing to love what is not real_

_It is the_ most _human thing_

Nico 

Jason deciding to come with them had turned out to be a very good thing. Nico wasn’t good with awkward small talk, and as soon as Percy disappeared upstairs with his mom there had been plenty of that.

“So both sides really didn’t know about each other?” asked Paul. After he had pulled a  steaming casserole out of the oven and dished some out, he had been pumping them for information. Percy’s calls after he got his memory back weren’t exactly full of explanations. So now they were sitting at the kitchen table, Jason and Nico both doing their level best to inhale an entire tuna and noodle casserole and catch Paul up on the last year or so.

“No, sir. Not at all,” said Jason.

“Please, call me Paul, Jason.” Paul had always seemed like a good guy, not that Nico knew him from more than that time he convinced Percy to jump in the Styx.

They looked up as Sally came into the kitchen. She had clearly been crying, but put on a smile anyway. Just being near her made Nico want his mom too.

“Percy said he’d be out in a minute,” she said. “Paul, I need to go to the store for some blue cupcakes, or something, I don’t know, I’ll think of it.” She was babbling at that point when Paul stood up.

“How about I go instead,” said Paul gently. He took the grocery bag out of her hands. “I’ll buy every bit of blue food in the store just to be sure.”

“Thank you,” Sally whispered. He kissed her, the kind of brief, almost perfunctory kiss that spoke of a far deeper intimacy, on his way out the door. When he was gone Sally sagged against the counter top for a moment, before straightening up and taking a deep breath.

It felt wrong to be seeing this, at least to Nico. Jason didn’t look any more comfortable either.

“Well, this has been quite the evening,” said Sally dryly as she sat down in the chair Paul had just vacated. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I got your name right, is it Jason?”

“You got it right,” said Jason.

“Good. And it’s good to see you again, Nico,” she said. “You’ve grown so much.”

“I have?” Nico was genuinely surprised. It felt like he was taking forever to grow taller, while Percy had sprouted like a weed. And Jason was even taller than Percy, and Frank after his transformation was almost as big.

At least Leo was shorter than him. Not by much, but enough to count.

“He’s worried he’s going to be short,” said Jason, because he was a horrible, backstabbing traitor of a friend.

“And I'm sure he appreciates you sharing that with me,” said Sally, trading a conspiratorial wink with Nico. Nico could count on one hand the number of adults who had a kind word or moment for him since he left the Lotus Hotel, but Sally was more than that. She was Percy’s mom, and just knowing she cared soothed something ragged in Nico's soul.

“Hey, guys.” Percy was standing in the doorway. He’d changed out of his dirty Camp Half Blood t-shirt and jeans, and now he was wearing blue flannel pajamas and a white t-shirt that was a bit too small for him. His feet were bare, his eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked almost sleepy as he trudged in to take a seat at the table. He slumped into the last chair and spooned himself a heaping mound of casserole.

“Feeling better, sweetheart?” asked Sally.

“A little,” he said and started shoveling food into his mouth. “Where’s Paul?”

“He went to the store to get some things,” Sally said. She kept touching Percy, as if she needed to reassure herself he was really there. “He’ll be back soon.”

“Do you think maybe Jason and Nico could spend the night?” Nico perked up at that.

“It’s fine by me,” said Sally. “Do you guys need to check in with someone?”

“No,” said Nico at the same time Jason said, “We should call Chiron.”

Percy snorted, the hints of a smile flickering on his lips. It was enough for Nico to ignore the disapproving look Jason cast at him. Sally reached out to finger comb Percy’s hair.

“If having your friends around helps, they can stay as long as you like,” said Sally. “Is the number your friend Piper called me from one we can reach Chiron at?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jason. “It was dying when she made the call.”

“I’ll tell Jules-Albert to take a message back,” said Nico, jumping to his feet. On his way out of the room he heard Sally asking who he was talking about.

He made his way out to the street where Jules-Albert sat waiting in the car. The car was exactly where they’d left it, but on top of it now was a big gray owl. It stared at Nico, its voluminous, flat gray eyes boring into him, glittering through the snow. The air whispered next to Nico's head.

“How’s he doing?” asked Annabeth, who was now standing beside him. The gray of her eyes was like the gray of the owl’s. She had the power of Athena within her.

“Better, being around Mrs. Jackson helps a lot.”

Annabeth’s lips quirked. “You’re so polite, Nico.”

“It’s been known to happen,” said Nico after the beat it took him to realize she was teasing him. “Are you… do you want to come in?”

“Not right now,” she said softly. “I think it’d be best if I came by tomorrow.” She turned to look at him, her eyes alight with the godly power. “We had Frank sit for Poseidon.”

“Doesn’t that make the pantheon uneven?” asked Nico.

“No, even though his father is in a Roman aspect, his legacy is to Poseidon.”

“So—who else?”

“Here,” she said, handing Nico a slip of paper. “I should be getting back, Hestia and Apollo are walking us through our new duties.”

He almost asked about Will, but didn’t feel he had the right. Also, Annabeth’s eyes were creeping him out, he felt uncomfortably naked under her gaze. She was already perceptive enough without Athena’s powers.

“Did you find out why?” he asked. She knew he was talking about Percy.

“No,” said Annabeth. “It’s impossible to communicate with the gods in their bound state. We won’t know until we restore them.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of a hundred possible conversations heavy in the air between them.

“You’ll take care of him.” It was less a question than it was a statement.

“I will,” said Nico. “I’m--”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Annabeth cut in. “We both know you aren’t, not really. And I don’t blame you for that.”

“You don’t?” Nico’s skepticism etched an unhappy smirk on Annabeth’s lips.

“No, you’re right. I kind of hate your guts right now.” The air around her shimmered with power. Nico realized that if Annabeth wanted to, she could do just about anything to him she wanted. But as much as she was hurting, he knew she was better than that.

Still made him nervous though. Something he was certain Annabeth was very aware of.

“I’ll tell Chiron you guys are staying the night,” she said, but only after drawing the moment out like a wound. The gray owl resting on Jules-Albert’s car stood up, dumping off the light layer of snow that had fallen while Nico and Annabeth talked. The owl flapped its wings, once, twice, and launched into the air. It flew up to the roof of the apartment building, which was when Nico saw more owls, perched at random points on roofs and fire escapes, every available surface really, throughout the block.

Annabeth wasn’t taking any chances. It would be good to know they didn’t have to worry about monsters, if only so that everyone could get a full night’s sleep. The three of them staying in one spot for any amount of time was a guarantee of trouble.

“If—if he needs anything, I…” she trailed off, and for a moment Nico felt awful. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nico.”

“Good night, Annabeth,” he said, but she was already gone.

Overhead an owl hooted, and the snow continued to fall. Nico went back inside.

 

* * *

 

Paul couldn’t have bought everything at the corner market that was blue, but he gave it a good shot. He came back cradling four bags full to the bursting with things to eat. They drank blue drinks, ate blue foods and of course blue candy, and just generally got so sugar high there was no way they were getting to sleep.

They wound up camped out in front of the TV, with permission from Sally and Paul to stay up as late as they wanted if they kept the volume down. Nico had minimal exposure to television shows and modern movies, and Jason wasn’t much better. Percy declared that they had to watch something classic, which was how they wound up watching a very strange movie about a man named Lebowski.

Sally kept coming out to check on them, more often than not Percy and Jason didn’t notice her. Nico did though, especially after he curled his legs up onto the couch and Percy put a hand on Nico’s ankle. It was hard enough to follow the plot of the movie already, doing so while Percy’s thumb was running over the bump of his ankle was essentially impossible.

Thereafter every time Sally poked her head in he expected her to say something or do something, to notice, but she would just smile. Nico wanted to ask Percy if he’d told her, but he also didn’t want to push anything right now.

Jason nodded off first, gently slumping over the arm of the couch until he started snoring. It wasn’t a deep snore, in fact it kind of sounded like a whistle, but it was enough to let them know he was asleep.

Percy turned off the TV and all its little devices while Nico tried to lead Jason with a pillow into lying down on the couch. He was partially successful, Jason grabbed the pillow and laid down, but his legs were curled up onto the armrest. Nico stared at him for a moment and then just draped the blanket over him. If it hurt he’d wake up and switch around.

Nico was looking around to see if there was another couch when he realized Percy was looking at him expectantly. When Nico didn’t respond he jerked his head, but that would mean…

Nico followed Percy to his room on suddenly unsteady legs. Percy just walked in, stripped off his pajama bottoms and shirt, and climbed into his bed. Nico stood in the doorway, not sure if he should get in. That had to be what Percy meant, right? But what if this was like a test, or some relationship thing he didn’t know about. Percy had wanted to take things slow, but sex was not slow!

“Don’t close the door,” said Percy as he fluffed his pillows. “My mom says it’s gotta stay open if you sleep over.”

Nico tried not to act as relieved as he felt. This wasn’t a sex thing, it was just about sleeping together. A distant part of him was concerned with the realization that Percy had probably told his mom everything, but most of his focus was currently on his sleeping accommodations, namely the nearly naked boy currently making himself comfortable in them.

Sleeping next to Percy, Percy who was only wearing tight boxer shorts, on a real mattress and not some horrible cave just off the beach. Suddenly Nico was incredibly eager to get into bed. He toed off his shoes and took off his belt. He hesitated over his jeans, but they were pretty beat up and he didn’t want to wear them to bed, not if Percy was nearly naked. His shirt stayed on though.

Nico slid under the covers with Percy. The light was dim, but just enough that Nico could get lost staring at Percy. The weight of him on the mattress, the warmth of his body so close to Nico’s own. Percy was looking back at him.

As if by a hidden signal they both drew together until they were kissing. Percy’s mouth still tasted sweet from all the blue food, and the kiss was lazy despite the fire it stoked in Nico.

“I’m tired,” said Percy after the kiss broke, flopping his head down onto his pillow.

“Me too,” said Nico, a yawn punctuating his words.

“It’s nice having you and Jason around,” said Percy. “Thanks for not trying to talk about anything.”

“Pushing people to do something usually turns into pushing them away,” said Nico. “Or at least that’s how I see it. I’m just sorry it happened.”

“Yeah,” said Percy, his voice catching. “I just—I thought he loved me.”

“I'm sure he still does, but… they’re gods Percy, not people. They’re like us in a lot of ways, but they’ve seen hundreds, if not thousands of their children die over the years. They’re not human, and they don’t feel human emotions.”

“It just always felt like my dad was different,” said Percy sadly. “I thought I was good enough for him.”

“It’s not about if you’re good enough for them, trust me,” said Nico, and Percy let loose a bitter little laugh, because he knew exactly where Nico was coming from. History they had shared, like so much else. But now they were here, they were safe, and under the blankets that history seemed far, far away.

They fell asleep facing each other, smiles slowly falling slack as their eyelids shuttered closed. Outside the window, snow continued to fall, draping the streets in lacy, white sheets. The rumble of the city that never slept softened to a hum so low that if you listened closely, you might hear the gentle hooting of owls outside.


	35. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well guys, this is it. we made it to the end of The Apostate Prophecy and what a wild ride it was. check back in a few months for the next entry in the Last Heroes trilogy, or stop my tumblr and say hello, ask questions, or just talk about how awesome Percico is. thanks for reading and your comments (oh! your comments have been so lovely) and kudos, hope you enjoyed this story as much as I did writing it!

Well of Souls – The World Tree (Axis Mundi)

_You should fear what the future holds_

Gilgamesh emptied the last few drops in his wineskin into his mouth and then dropped it on the ground. The damn thing always took a few minutes to refill, and being drunk was the only interesting thing to do in this hellish sliver of paradise.

Feeling restless, Gilgamesh rose from his throne and began to patrol the World Tree. He walked around its great roots that stretched all over the world, smelled the flowers, watched the birds, and then when he couldn’t take it any longer he started hitting things.

It took him a while to demolish the entire garden, but he’d been doing this for thousands of years and his body knew how to best move through the motions. He cut the lesser trees, killed every living thing he could set his eyes on, and raged until the entire Deeper Well was laid to waste.

It would all be back in a matter of hours. Nothing ever changed here, no matter who promised him otherwise. It was enough to drive a man insane, unless he learned to laugh at his cage. That small triumph was the only one allowed to him. Gilgamesh might be caged in his body, but he refused to be caged in his mind or spirit.

He threw himself back into his chair, glowering at the entrance. His wineskin was only half full and would stop as soon as he picked it up. He’d destroyed everything within his cage he could, and now there was nothing to do.

Behind him the eternal hiss and sizzle of the boiling ichor fell off for a second. Gilgamesh was out of his throne in an instant, dashing inside the tree.

The eternally burning lotus blossom was unchanged, but Gilgamesh sat before it and stared. He had guarded the Well for untold centuries and was a master of waiting and staring.

It took days, but finally it happened again. The flames of the burning lotus guttered and sparked for the briefest moment, and then resumed burning.

And Gilgamesh laughed and laughed and laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to missivesfromghosts for being a wonderful editor and a shoutout to holdingamoonbeam and perfectgirl-isgone for beta-ing
> 
> [Addendum to the Disclaimer: a great deal in this fic is shamelessly cribbed from my favorite writers, including but not limited to: Warren Ellis, Anne Carson, Jonathan Hickman, Mike Carey, and Terry Pratchett.
> 
> It’s fanfiction so I get to do what I like, hah!]


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